Harbinger
by sorceress alexandria
Summary: Original "What If" story. A secret marriage between Sephiroth and Aerith is only the beginning of how history's greatest lie is uncovered. Discover a tale of love, betrayal and revenge. Of secrets and lies and, ultimately, truth.
1. Author's Notes (DO NOT SKIP)

**Author's Notes (DO NOT SKIP)**

* * *

 _Harbinger_ was originally titled _Break Me Down_ which made its debut on January 27, 2009. _Break Me Down_ was removed to undergo heavy construction on October 31, 2011. It re-debuted as _Harbinger_ on May 8, 2012 and was officially completed on August 26, 2012. It was subsequently removed AGAIN at some point in 2013 (I can't remember the exact date).

So what is _Harbinger_ doing up again? WELL, after **3 years** of receiving kind messages from fans looking for my story and where else they could possibly find it, or if I could send it to them for reading-only, I've given in.

This granted request comes with a warning that, while the story is essentially complete, THERE WILL BE NO SEQUEL. I say this specifically to those of you who read this story years ago, you know what's coming. Yes, I had planned to write a sequel before but I'm too focused on my original work to even contemplate a possible sequel to _Harbinger_ , on top of the fact that a sequel would deviate too far from the Square Enix universe (again, you original readers know what I mean).

So I'm officially saying it here: **Harbinger is a stand-alone story**. End of story. For the new readers who might ask for a sequel, I say thank you for reading but sorry it's just not going to happen. For the original readers, you – are – welcome. And thank you for the messages and requests. It's been encouraging.

Original readers, enjoy your trip down memory lane. For the new readers, take care and beware. _Harbinger_ is not a story for children. It is a dark story that requires mature understanding. You are entering a world that has never been explored before, a world that fills in the blanks and makes you believe this is the way it could have gone. A twist on "What If".

You have been warned.


	2. Introduction & Summary (DO NOT SKIP)

**Introduction & Summary (DO NOT SKIP)**

* * *

 _**It should be noted that the only specific alteration to the plot, other than the divergence for the basis of my story, is that Aerith and her biological mother, Iflana, were not held captive by Dr. Hojo for seven years. Instead, after the murder of Dr. Gast, mother and daughter successfully escape Shinra's clutches, where Iflana dies of her wounds in front of Elmyra Gainsborough who promises to take care of her infant daughter.**_

 _Harbinger_ starts off in the middle of Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core. Where it deviates from the original Final Fantasy VII plot is the scene in Nibelheim after Genesis tells Sephiroth about their origins while they are inside the reactor. It is the decisions that Sephiroth makes from then on that start the deviation.

Sephiroth returns to the reactor, breaks the casing which houses Jenova's body and cuts off her head. He then proceeds to burn down the reactor (the town is not burned down) and leaves behind his men including subordinates Zack Fair, SOLDIER 2nd Class and Cloud Strife, Trooper. He goes back to Midgar with Jenova's head to Shinra Headquarters. He kills President Shinra and Dr. Hojo and then proceeds to burn down Shinra Laboratories - Jenova's head burning along with it. Later on, he finds himself in the slums and collapses in Aerith's church where she finds him and slowly nurses him back to health.

Meanwhile Shinra Electric Power Company ("SEPC") is in uproar. Their President and lead scientist have just been murdered by none other than General Sephiroth, however, only certain members of the corporate higher echelon knows this. SEPC essentially runs the entire city with its smaller subsidiaries and privatized corporations involved in every sector of the capital. The responsibilities fall onto the heir, Rufus Shinra, who decides to keep the murders confidential from the public. The citizens could never know that their beloved Hero General had gone insane and murdered prominent members of the community.

And so, the world is told fabulous lies:

General Sephiroth is on extensive army leave at an undisclosed five star resort somewhere on the globe.

President Shinra died of a massive heart attack during a family dinner.

Dr. Hojo, Head of Shinra's Science Department, died during an experiment that went wrong causing an explosion in his laboratory

Finally, in local Nibelheim news, the fire in the reactor was due to malfunctioning machinery.

The world believed it all.

At corporate headquarters Rufus labels Sephiroth "missing in action" and puts him on the most wanted list alongside global fugitive, Genesis Rhapsodos. And then something unforeseen happens.

17 year old Aerith Gainsborough disappears.

The Turks are baffled and held accountable. How could she disappear without a trace?

What no one knew - what no one could ever know - is that in the six months which all those events took place...General Sephiroth married Aerith Gainsborough.

While both high priorities, Shinra never links the two missing cases together. The General S./Jenova Project and Ancient/Gainsborough missing cases are still considered pending and turning colder by the minute...

Our story starts here, a little over a year after their first meeting. They are living miles away from the nearest town, Argon (a fictional location I created), deep in the Northern Continent and their present ages are 18 and 26.

I also want to point out two issues that should be considered important:

1\. I have done my best with MY OWN interpretation of Sephiroth.

2\. The age gap between Sephiroth and Aerith - and given their starting ages at the beginning of this story - must be taken into account. Aerith is still a teenager struggling to live up to "womanhood". Sephiroth, psychologically broken and mentally disturbed, struggles with all that was revealed to him in Nibelheim and his need for his young wife which is something he doesn't understand.

This story is so much more and beyond that of Sephiroth and Aerith.

 _Harbinger_ is my tribute to one of the greatest unexplored mysteries of the Final Fantasy VII universe.


	3. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

Deep within a forest shadowed by great trees and shielded by snow and fog was a house built by both wood and stone. No one could really say who had lived in that house. Travelers passing by thought it eerie, a lonely structure in the middle of nowhere. There was also something about that particular house which made one pause and stop, before ever touching the door, before taking another step forward and finally turning away, sometimes running in fear. It was as if a dark shadow lived there, as if a terrible sadness waited inside. The feeling of tragedy hung in the air, a foreboding feeling of death.

And so, the house remained as it always was, standing solid beneath the trees, hidden by snow, seemingly untouched as the years came and went.

However, before time could collect those passing years, before the wood began to rot and dust molded, before a portrait of a man and a young woman began to fade and turn yellow with age...

...the story had to begin first.


	4. Prelude I

**Prelude I**

* * *

I struggled with my destiny.

It was like a mewling child strapped to my back, a heavy burden clawing and crawling all over me. No matter how much I loathed it, how much I regretted, nothing could and would change what had happened and what was to come.

I had to accept that I was not in control.

But I could not.

I was angry, so angry. Rage pulsed in my blood, into my heart, fueling me with a dark fire in my soul.

"Can nothing be done?" My voice was a cracked whisper. "Can I not stop this madness?"

I was afraid. The fear was nearly debilitating. It seeped into me slowly, poisoning my reason and I had to ask myself, was I strong enough?

My gloved hand clenched around the hilt of my sword, hard.

And so I held tightly to the _one consolation_ that had been revealed to me.

In the end it will be worth it.

I stared up at the dark sky and waited for my death.


	5. Chapter I

**PART ONE: LOVE**

 **Chapter I**

* * *

 _Red._

 _Blood._

 _His blade tore through her back._

 _The sound of broken flesh echoed._

 ** _Kill her._**

 ** _She must die._**

 ** _Your enemy._**

 _The vicious voice burned in his ears fuelling the madness inside him._

 _And when she pitched forward, blood pooling beneath her broken body, he threw his head back and laughed._

 _It was the horrible maniacal laugh of a mad man, a broken man._

 _A monster._

" _Mother!" he shouted, lifting the huge bloodied katana in the air._

 _A large ominous black wing appeared on his back, feathers everywhere, falling on the body clothed in pink and blood._

 _He shot to the sky._

 _And his laughter still echoed._

* * *

Another nightmare.

Mako eyes opened.

And slowly, after exhaling a measured breath, the man sat up. In a careful movement he turned his upper body and looked over his shoulder to the figure that slept on the other side of the bed.

Was she real?

He blinked.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Yes, she was real.

A tremor went through him.

Rich mahogany hair was strewn about the pillow. She had the sheets tugged to her chin. Long lashes swept over high cheekbones while the lips were set in a pout. Was she dreaming? He swallowed the lump in his throat. Was she dreaming of him? He ground his teeth.

He turned away from her.

His body trembled as he stood to his full height. The sheets rustled on the bed. Anxiety ate at his nerves. _What is truth? What is real?_ He did not know anymore. Stepping quietly to the large window by their bed, he looked out into the snowy abyss.

And because he fought his need for her, he would succumb to another need and give into rage instead.

Sephiroth took his Masamune and went outside, greeting the freezing blizzard of the Northern Continent with a feral grin and a glint of madness in his eyes.

* * *

Waking up in the middle of the night to find her husband's side of the bed empty always sent Aerith in a panic. How many nights had she woken to find him gone? Her hand fluttered over the imprint of his body on the crumpled bed sheets.

 _Cold_.

The nightmares were frequent - sometimes even violent - and it was on those particular nights that Aerith was afraid to sleep.

A sudden chill swept through her.

Her husband had become distant ever since their move to the Northern Continent. Aerith frowned. He'd always been distant, but this sort of emotional distance was grating on her nerves.

Sometimes when he went to hunt for their food she would spend the afternoon in front of the mirror, assessing and obsessing. She analyzed every part of her body: legs, thighs, the curve of her hips, belly and breasts, arms, shoulders and face. Was this part of her too big? Was that part of her too small? What did he think? And so on and so forth. Her hair was very long and had not been cut in the past three years. She knew he would forbid her to cut it even if she wanted to. But she wondered more often than not - did she look like a grown up? Did she look like an adult? She hated looking young. She wanted to look like a married woman.

She cooked all his meals and kept the house clean. If he wanted drink or food, she would fill his cup and plate, if he sat down by the fire she sat quietly on the floor next to him, if he wanted to go for a walk she trailed behind him, if he wanted to be entertained she told him a story or a joke and when he needed her, she let him take her as much as he wanted, as much as he needed. Do you need anything, my love? Have you had enough, husband? What else can I do for you, General?

Midgar had been riddled with posters of him in glorified military wear. His Masamune, a seven-foot long katana, was shown gripped in his gloved hands. Kids would point and say; yes I want to be just like him! Women would swoon at the handsome and heroic figure depicted. Men wished they had joined SOLDIER to have the women swooning over them. This was Shinra propaganda; using their prized SOLDIER to depict the glory, fame and wealth that could be achieved through them.

She sighed and looked at the clock on her nightstand, blinking crusty eyes: 2:17am.

Throwing the covers aside, she got up, balancing herself carefully in the dark. The window rattled and she looked towards it. Fat white flakes were all she could see, not an unusual sight. Making her way around their bed, she peered outside.

Snow covered the vast expanse outside their house. Amongst the whiteness she caught her husband's tall figure. Despite the freezing climate, he wore nothing but black pants and a thin grey sweater. In his right hand she could make out the Masamune. Large flakes of snow caked around him and yet he stood as still as a statue. She knew he was not even remotely cold. The experiments done by Shinra's scientists had rendered him immune to most, if not all, natural human fatalities. She was somewhat envious of his superhuman abilities, which were so different from her own innate magic borne from Ancient blood.

Grabbing her robe and tying it into a hasty knot she made her way downstairs. Flicking the light switch on in the kitchen she decided to make a pot of tea. She knew better than to go and confront him outside. She would wait it out, like always. Fighting the urge to go outside against her better judgment and experience with him, she began to hum and wipe the kitchen counter. She could never sleep properly without him beside her anyway.

But when her mind began to wander the past was never far behind.

 _She peered up shyly at the boy with black hair and amazing blue eyes._

 _"_ _So pretty." She breathed in admiration._

 _The handsome boy smiled and pointed at himself. "The face?"_

 _She giggled and blushed. "The eyes!"_

 _He leaned down and said invitingly, "You like them? Then take a closer look."_

Her hand stilled on the counter, clutching the cleaning rag.

Zack Fair. Tall, dark and handsome - he fit the bill completely. Broad shouldered with an easy grin spread over a tanned face, accompanied with that unwavering sense of honor of his, he had been her first crush. However, at that time, she'd been convinced it was love.

She chewed on her lower lip nervously. Thinking about Zack was not fair to her husband but her empathic nature for people was no doubt like a bottomless pit. She shook her head. Her husband's bouts of jealousy and mental instability would not tolerate feelings of any sort regarding any man. His jealousy was not an emotion to feel complimented about. It was downright frightening having learned from first hand experience herself.

Before they left Midgar, while walking back from the grocery store an unfamiliar man approached her. And before he could even ask her name he died right before her eyes. The tip of a bloodied sword nearly touched the front of her favorite red jacket. The man crumpled into a bloodied heap on the sidewalk as Sephiroth, unsteady on his feet, kicked the dead man's body to the side before nearly toppling on the corpse himself.

With the counter shining spotless, she hung the rag and walked over to the window near the front door. The familiar figure was gone from where she last saw him. She never asked him where he went because she knew.

She knew she had married a killer.

* * *

The blizzard continued outside but the tall silver haired man continued to ravage the scores of beasts that came at him.

Exhale.

Breathe.

His blade sliced through monstrous flesh, blood oozing from the beast.

Deep red stained the snow. The katana tore the head off the monster in one clean slice.

Sephiroth looked towards the house where he knew his young bride stood and waited. Waited and waited patiently for him to satiate his bloodlust.

It was time to go home.

With his blade trailing blood he turned towards home where upon approaching the house, the door swung open and there Aerith stood, her hands open in supplication and acceptance, having waited and worried over him, took him into their house, bloodied and broken, and gave herself unto him.

In the comfort of their home that kept the roaming madness at bay, he clasped her head in his hands, fingers threading through her brilliant hair.

Exhale.

Breathe.

"I love you." His wife murmured, bent over him, loving him.


	6. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

* * *

Rosa was stacking shelves in her grocery store when she heard the sliding doors open and a whoosh of cold air stream inside.

"What do you want for dinner?

The voice was a young female soprano.

"Are you sick of canned tomato soup yet?"

Pause.

Then another question.

"Did I give you my grocery list?"

And then a different voice, this one was a deep murmur. Masculine. But her old ears couldn't make out the reply.

The female voice sighed. "I miss my garden..."

Rosa squinted her eyes to get a better look at the two people that had entered her store.

The female figure was small, slender and petite. Delicate looking. Thick mahogany hair was twisted into a French braid that hung down her back. Rosa marveled at all that hair wound up in a single braid. The thickness was as large as a man's wrist. She felt a pang of nostalgia for her own youth that was long gone now. She, herself, had _once_ been as tiny. Her eyes turned to the tall figure behind the girl.

In contrast to the girl that wore a pale blue winter coat complete with a pink scarf and brown snow boots, the man wore all black. A black wool winter coat was draped over broad shoulders. He stood at nearly six and a half feet tall in large black snow boots. Rosa couldn't tell what color his hair was because he wore a tuque. For all she knew he could be bald. But his eyebrows were very pale, appearing almost white. Perhaps he was just very blond. He walked with a straight back, his movements reminding her of a military man she'd once known as a young lady. She leaned back further to get a closer look.

"Excuse me?"

Startled, Rosa nearly fell off the ladder.

"Oh!" Emerald eyes widened. "I'm so sorry!"

Putting a hand to her pounding heart, Rosa put down the last can on the high shelf and carefully began down the steps of the ladder. Wiping her hands on her yellow work apron, she turned to the girl. "Don't worry, dearie, I've never had much sense of balance anyway."

A dimple formed on her left cheek as the pretty girl grinned but made no comment.

Stepping away from them, Rosa went behind the cashiers counter. "What can I do for you?"

The girl eyed the shelves around them. "Where would today's fresh bread be?"

Rosa tried not to lift her eyes to the man hovering by the girl. Argon was a quiet town and Rosa had _always_ been a curious person. "Right there on aisle three…Miss?" Rosa couldn't help herself.

The girl blinked once and then smiled. "Mrs. Ariel Thorne."

 _Mrs?_

This girl was…married?

And before Rosa could even swallow that thought, the young married _girl_ turned to her side and raised her eyes to the tall man, gesturing towards him. "This is my husband, Sean."

 _Husband?_

Despite herself, Rosa was openly gaping at them. Mentally shaking her head she did a double take and finally raised her own aged eyes - raised and raised them until they met a pair of dark green eyes. The shade of green reminded Rosa of a forest during summer's eve. There was something about those eyes that didn't seem natural despite the startling handsome that bordered on beautiful. Rosa stared hard at the man, her gaze turning disapproving. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties and she wondered if this union was even legal.

Instead of assuming the worst, she introduced herself instead. "I'm Rosa Davies, the owner of this grocery store."

"It's nice to meet you Rosa." Mrs. Thorne replied amiably, a dazzling genuine smile on her _young_ face, before she turned in the direction of the bread. Mr. Thorne trailed behind her like a towering sentinel.

Rosa watched them until they left her store. The girl was young, that was obvious. But the man. There was something oddly familiar about him and so she wondered...but then Rosa decided maybe all men were a little familiar. She was getting old after all.

* * *

He was looking out the window again.

When they returned from town Aerith had immediately busied herself in the kitchen and Sephirtoh took post standing by the window.

Argon was a small town. The population was no more than five hundred people at best, maybe even less. Aerith understood their lack of social interaction with the locals. She had learned well over a year ago that the less social interaction she had with other people – the better.

The house they currently lived in had been bought and paid for - though as to how, what, when and where – Aerith had absolutely no idea. Sephiroth was a walking mystery. Sephiroth wanted to make their union legal despite the fact that no one would ever know General Sephiroth had married an unknown barely legal flower girl from the slums. There was no paper trail because he'd murdered the judge afterward. The only record of their marriage was in this house. Their marriage certificate read, simply, Sephiroth and Aerith Gainsborough. He'd listed no last name and she had no idea where their Northern Continent aliases came from. She assumed there was a connection with the name he had taken upon himself: Sean Thorne. But who was Sean Thorne? Aerith glanced back at her husband's broad back. He certainly _was not_ Sean Thorne. Who was the real Sean Thorne? Was the real Sean Thorne a dead comrade? How did Sephiroth know him?

Moreover Aerith Gainsborough was certainly _not_ Ariel Thorne.

Sephiroth had given her a vague account about his departure from Shinra. Before he left for Nibelheim he had decided upon his return to Midgar that he would resign from Shinra. Nibelheim was supposed to be his last mission which it did turn out to actually be his _last_ mission. After the death of Angeal and then Genesis's rebellion, losing his two friends took away any allegiance he had left for Shinra.

"What are you thinking about?"

Aerith tried to suppress the shiver when his large hands gripped her shoulders. The shiver came anyway and she knew he felt it from his quiet intake of breath above her. Turning to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. Her nose came in line with his breastbone.

"It was nice going into town today." Her voice muffled against the navy blue sweater he wore. He smelled like clean laundry today and she was thankful for it. Blood was a scent she was all too familiar with when it came to him.

"Was it?"

She pressed her fingers against the soft fabric that lay over hard muscle and felt his grip on her shoulders tighten. "The old lady at the grocery store was nice."

There was a scoff from above her.

She peeked up at him He frowned down at her.

"She is just an old woman."

"I know…b-but she was nice, right?"

"I don't give a shit," he told her bluntly, lines deepening around his mouth as he continued to frown down at her. "Strangers are strangers. Old women are old women."

Aerith blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Not very perceptive, are you, wife?" There was a taunt in his tone.

Her brows drew together. "Well…ma-maybe you should give people…a…chance."

The hands around her shoulders tightened again, bordering on painful now. "I don't give people chances, girl. I commanded armies and thousands of men into battle, fighting wars that littered countless bodies on the ground." Feline-like mako eyes narrowed. "You have no idea what people are capable of doing." In a hushed tone, his next words frightened her. "They can smile at you and then plunge a knife right into your heart."

Heart pounding, she knew he was right. He'd done it right before her eyes. Only he hadn't been smiling. She thought of the man who died right before her eyes in Midgar. She remembered screaming and screaming until Sephiroth dragged her away from the man as he bled out.

"I'm aware that not everyone is…good. B-but…well…to be fair…everyone deserves a chance. "

His gaze could have burned a hole through the floor.

"Fair?"

She could see the thread in which he put every misunderstood word together, like an unstoppable set of dominoes.

Her husband's features hardened. "Life isn't fair."

She pressed herself against him. "I-I know that."

"Do you really, flower girl?" It was obvious he didn't believe her.

"What?"

His hands dropped to her waist, circling it whole. "You think you've have given me a fair chance? Am I nothing but a beast to you? One that you think you can tame?"

"I never...said...t-that," she began, fumbling over her words and then tried another route, searching helplessly for something that would douse his rising ire. "What I was trying to g-get at was that we've lived here for nearly six months and don't you ever just want leave here? Go s-somewhere...else?"

"No." He gave her a suspicious look.

Desperately, she pressed her cheek to his chest. "How about making new friends?" She almost bit down on her tongue, knowing in that instant it was the wrong thing to say. His hands squeezed waist hard and she sucked in a breath.

"Absolutely not."

"Why?" His fingers were digging into her waist.

She was weighing her options when he suddenly said, "Does the flower girl want to make new friends?" The tone of his voice was something akin to a spider crawling up her arm. "Am I not enough for you?"

Aerith knew it was a trap but she fell into it anyway. She always did.

Immediately she tried to placate him, standing on her toes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders because she couldn't reach his neck. "You know I never said that. Please don't think that."

He removed her hands from his shoulders and then lifted her, hands around her waist, bringing her to eye level with him. He stared at her intensely and Aerith wondered what he was looking for. What he needed from her.

"General…what is it that you're afraid of?" She asked him in a quiet tone, gaze straying from the exotic mako eyes to the strong column of his throat. "What do you need from me?" His expression gave way to something she had never seen before. Her heart pounded, hard.

And then in a blink of an eye it was gone.

Sephiroth set her down and turned away.

Confused, she watched as he reached for his Masamune. He was almost out the door when she realized what he intended to do. Without thinking, she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him just as he was turning the knob on their front door.

"Please don't go outside!" She tightened her grip around him. "P-please!"

He stayed still. The sound of his hand tightening around the Masamune's hilt was terrifying.

Time stood still for a moment.

But only for a moment.

The Masamune clattered on the floor and suddenly he descended upon her.

Hands attacking her body, he lifted her and carried her to their couch. She fell on plush cushions.

"What do you want from me?" He bent to her, lips on her face. A day's worth of beard growth scratched at her sensitive skin. He yanked at her sweater, nearly tearing apart the soft cotton in the process.

"Pl-Pl-Please, I didn't mean it like how you think!"

Bright SOLDIER eyes looked at her.

"I know what you want, _wife_ ," he sneered maliciously. "You want to leave me. I know you, girl. You're terrified by me, by the monster," he paused in his violent wake of words and then rasped a hated word, "...inside me."

Trembling, she shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. He tugged viciously at her skirt, ripping it off her and broke the buttons on her blouse as he divested her of that too.

"Listen to me," he warned quietly, looming over her small shivering frame. His hands gripped her shoulders – she would have bruises later. "You are never to leave me, do you understand? I've told you this before, flower girl." He shook her roughly, his gaze becoming unstable, pupils dilating. "We live together or die together, but there is only one choice. There is _no_ other alternative. I let us go into that fucking town because I knew we needed food and supplies and had I listened to my own instinct, I would have gone alone and left you here." He was breathing heavily, fingers digging, bruising. "I was generous today. And you would ask to go again? So quickly? Are you so eager to be rid of me?"

She shouldn't answer him, so acutely aware that she was practically bare before him except for a mismatched set of underwear.

"I…I…."

But he was too crazed now and he shook her again. Aerith whimpered in pain. "You think you can escape me? Go ahead, wife, run from me. But I will find you. Mark my words. I _will_ find you."

He reached for her, clasped her body in his hands and kissed her roughly, slanting his mouth over hers.

He took her roughly in the living room on their couch, on the floor and standing up with her back against the wall. He took her until her limbs gave out and she almost collapsed. He would not stop until she begged, until she submitted to his will. He took her while she cried and screamed and finally begged and moaned for him to stop, for him to _never_ stop, for some _more_. And through it all, in his movements and with his body, he told her over and over:

You belong to me.

* * *

 _Her hands were numb and cold. She stretched them out towards the black void in front of her. There was nothing but darkness and engulfed by it._

 _She tried to speak but no sound came out of her. The action of trying to use her voice pained her chest and she clutched at her heart - and felt no beat._

 _Looking down in horror, she realized that she held her bleeding heart in her other hand._

 _Nearly vomiting, she stumbled through the darkness for a time, searching blindly. She felt her breath begin to leave her body, the numbness in her fingertips spreading throughout and she despaired. Each exhale was another moment gone, another breath taken away._

 _There was a sigh above her and she twisted around, clutching her bleeding heart. A cold hand caressed her cheek and she froze. Colder lips pressed over her own._

 _"Live." The voice told her. The darkness began to swallow her. "You will live."_

 _She tried to push away, to push forward, to plead with this person to put her heart back where it belonged but the blackness overtook her -_

Aerith woke screaming.

Sitting upright, crying loudly, she felt the bed next to her – empty. Trembling, she brought her knees to her chest and hugged them hard.

Gasping for breath, disturbed by the nightmare, she turned her wet face to the window.

* * *

In a city filled with pollution and corruption, a woman and her daughter walked down the streets of the slums.

Running ahead of her mother the little girl ran down the street and picked up a flyer that had been blown away by the wind. Turning it over the little girl saw a picture of teenage girl with thick brown hair and pretty green eyes.

"Emily! Don't run by yourself like that on the street!" Out of breath, the woman turned the little girl towards her and continued to scold. "How many times have I told you not to take off like that!"

"Mommy! This girl looks like a princess!"

Curious, the woman took the flyer out of her daughter's hands and read the headings in large print.

 **MISSING**

 **Name: Aerith Gainsborough**

 **Age: 17-18**

 **Have you seen this girl?**

 **Please contact 1-985-SHINRA**

 **Reward: 1,000,000 Gil**

Eyes widening at the colossal amount upon finding the missing girl, the woman looked at the 'last seen' date and frowned, it had been over a year since anyone had seen the poor girl.

"Doesn't she look like a princess?" Her daughter jumped up and down.

"A missing princess…" The woman muttered and then crumpled up the flyer and tossed it in the nearest bin.

"Mommy! I liked that picture!" The little girl whined.

Taking hold of her daughter's little hand she turned the corner saying, "Honey, it's best not to touch anything on the streets. We have to go home and wash our hands now!"

But as she turned the corner, she stopped and gasped at the sight in front of her.

Flyers.

Thousands of flyers riddled the alleyway, spread out on the filthy pavement, old and new, all with the same message, all with the same smiling pretty face still missing.


	7. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

* * *

He had one hand behind her head while his other grasped her curved hip, angling her to him, taking him deeper inside her. He could feel her whole body trembling around him, gripping him, taking all of him. Her small hands grasped his shoulders, her back arching towards him. The spasms were taking over her and she gasped, eyes rolling back, tossing her head to the side, mouth parted. There was excitement and terror. The excitement was within her and terror within him. He was terrified he would break her. Her vulnerability was his eternal undoing.

His wife's breathy sighs filled his ears. He grunted and thrust forward. She whimpered and tightened her legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back sending a delicious shiver up his spine. She was too much for him like this; soft and tiny, like a butterfly wrapped around him.

Sephiroth wanted to make it last longer before she came apart in his arms.

But it was all too soon. She began to contract around him, pulling him to join her, her hips lifting higher towards his downward thrust.

Her eyes snapped open as the beginning wave overtook her. Through heavy lidded eyes he watched her come undone beneath him, her body trembling, muscles tightening around him. He hissed through clenched teeth, not letting her go, holding her closer to him as she began to cry out.

And cry out.

And then, "I love you!"

He angled her hips and slid further, hitting a sweet spot that caused her to unravel again, and this time, he came undone with her.

* * *

 _Hojo recoiled in shocked horror._

 _Sephiroth lifted the head of Jenova by the hair._

 _"Here you are, **father**."_

 _But Hojo, wide-eyed and speechless, was still taking in the sight of the beheaded alien and had yet to reply._

 _Insanely, Sephiroth thought it was not a surprise that the alien had silver hair. He was the product of this vile creature after all. Violet veins ran over a humanoid face. Black liquid seeped from the neck where he had beheaded the body in the tank. How the alien still bled, he didn't know. He'd been clutching the head for three days now - his fingers felt permanently tangled in Jenova's hair._

 _Arriving at Shinra Headquarters he set out immediately for the president's office. In his mind, the mantra had continued. Liars. Liars. Liars! Sephiroth, burning with such hatred, stormed into Old Shinra's office and promptly plunged the Masamune into the old man's heart, killing him instantly. Afterward, he tore down the hallways where upon arriving at the Department of Science he found Hojo, and without ceremony, kicked open the door._

" _You foul monster, you've desecrated Jenova!" Hojo finally yelled, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. His nasal-like voice grated on Sephiroth's ears.  
_

 _"Yes, I am a monster. You created me, isn't that right, **father**?" He stepped towards the shorter man, leaning into him. Hojo took a step backward, eyes darting from Sephiroth to the head that dangled from his hand._

 _And then Hojo's calculating black eyes snapped to Sephiroth's, bizarrely appearing distracted by the head. "Father? Ah yes, I see now. You've discovered certain truths about your biology, Sephiroth. No matter." Black brows drew together, narrowed again on the head. "Now, my son, let go of your dearest mother."_

 _But Sephiroth lifted the Masamune, points its tip towards the head, taunting Hojo with the head, shaking it from side to side by the hair. "I rather like carrying the head of my mother."_

 _"You stupid fool. Let go of Jenova at once! Don't soil her with your filthy hands!"_

 _"Filthy, am I? You're one sick fuck to say that to me."_

 _"You've ruined everything! You were perfect, better than Angeal and that arrogant bastard, Genesis. They failed where you did not, until recently." Hojo's hands twitched continuing to stare at the decayed head in Sephiroth's hand. "You were my masterpiece and now look at you! You destroyed the reactor and burned important files in Nibelheim. I'm going to have to start over! You obviously can't be controlled, you've become defective!"_

 _"Start over?" Black spots dotted his vision. He was on the precipice of a rage he had never known. "What makes you think I'm going to let you play god a second time?"_

 _But the scientist barely registered to Sephiroth's vehemence. "You don't know what you've done, boy. I have yet to uncover all her mysteries and you would dare shame the entity that blessed you with supernatural abilities!"_

 _His right hand tightened around the head's thick hair, fingernails grating on decayed scalp. Sephiroth raised the Masamune towards the scientist, the tip's edge touching Hojo's throat._

" _Did you not hear me?" He pressed the tip further; slicing through flesh, blood seeping through the wound and onto Hojo's lab coat._

 _But Hojo began to laugh insanely, not paying attention to the blood that continued to run down his throat. He laughed, spittle on the corner of his mouth, eyes glazing over._

" _Go ahead and kill me, my son," he heaved, laughing. "But you will never escape the bonds of Jenova. She will have dominion over everything and everyone - including you."_

" _Shut up!" The fine line he'd been walking on broke, and he stabbed Hojo through the shoulder. Blood came forth, splattering._

 _"She is all beauty and power. Jenova is my one and only love, you see. I took her out of the crater where the Cetrans buried her. I could feel her – such power – I knew she was the one. The promise of all that knowledge was at my fingertips!" Hojo's rapturous expression disgusted Sephiroth._

 _"You're a sick bastard."_

 _"No! I did what any great scientist would do!" Hojo declared passionately. "I sought to discover, to understand the unknown! And she, a creature given to me from the universe…"_

 _"Enough!"_

 _And yet – still – the Hojo continued to laugh. "Do not underestimate your genetics, boy. That is the beauty of Jenova. Her cells will take over you, for she lives within you, and eventually she will live **through**_ _you!"_

 _Sephiroth thrust the blade forward, slicing downward, cutting muscles and tendons, tearing through flesh and bone._

 _Hojo's left arm fell off._

 _Hysterical screams sounded. The limb twitched on the tiled floor, blood seeping into the grout, staining._

 ** _Destroy him._**

 _Sephiroth staggered back, hands loosening on the alien head. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him._ _The voice was so subtle, so quiet, he wasn't sure if he'd actually heard it._

 _Hojo shoved past Sephiroth, running towards the door, blood trailing._

 _But before he could escape him, Sephiroth turned with inhuman speed and plunged the Masamune through the other man._

 _Hojo fell noisily._

 _The smell of flesh and bones was filling the air._

 _"We're going to die today. All of us. We all go together..." Sephiroth murmured in a steady voice, ignoring Hojo's agonized screams. "I should never have been born."  
_

 _Sephiroth looked down at Hojo who was choking blood, gurgling. His booted foot dug into Hojo's back as he slid the Masamune out. The scientist pitched forward. Sephiroth heard teeth cracking on the tiled floor. He raised his spare hand and summoned fire. He watched with a detached expression as Jenova's head began to burn in his other hand. A sickly smell came in the room. Burnt flesh – both human and alien flesh. Hojo tried to get up, yelling through mouthfuls of blood, "No! No! Don't burn her!"_

 _But Sephiroth tossed the burning head on the floor. The nearby desk caught fire. Soon the whole laboratory would burn._

 _Hojo rolled onto his belly, sliding forward, using his remaining right arm to propel himself towards the burning head._ " _Jenova, oh Jenova!" He reached out towards the flaming head, his fingertips nearly touching the scorching fire. "My love!"_

 _Sephiroth stabbed him once more, tearing into the body beneath him, cutting into his father's heart._

 _Suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck rose and he looked up from the corpse and the flames. He'd felt another presence in the room, but only for half a second and it was gone._

* * *

"Who are you?"

His reflection only stared back at him, his eyes glowing in the dim light. Damp silver hair clung to his forehead. The short hair was still an adjustment he was trying to get used to. He missed the feeling of its length.

Sometimes Sephiroth's dreams were actual flashbacks. This one, in particular, came to him regularly. Even when he was awake, the memory was so tangible he could almost feel Jenova's hair twisted around his fingers.

But the question. The question plagued his mind night and day.

His mouth was set in a deep frown. His nose was straight, his face like carved stone over angled cheekbones. Silver brows slashed over his eyes. He had ridiculously long eyelashes. His wife was terribly jealous of that.

"What are you?"

That question tortured him even more.

He clenched his fist, wanting to drive it into the mirror, wanting to destroy his reflection, but really wanting to destroy himself.

His back ached and he lowered his fisted hand, unclenching, and reached behind to massage the muscle and bone behind his left shoulder. His upper back had been aching since the day he'd murdered the president and Hojo. He'd hated Hojo his entire life and finding out he was a product of that man's seed – he nearly killed himself at discovery. He was nothing more than a science experiment derived from the mutated genetics of an alien entity. He was no Cetran descendant. He knew the creature they'd uncovered in the crater had not been an Ancient. That much was proved through the notes in the Nibelheim mansion's library.

"General?"

His wife's soft voice was on the other side of the door. Another tentative knock sounded. He was still damp from his shower. Running a hand through his wet hair he reached and turned the knob.

With her hand still poised for another series of knocks, Aerith stood before him wearing a yellow dress with a pink apron tied snug around her waist. Thick mahogany hair was piled high in a messy bun, a few strands framing her sweet face. And she smelled like burnt cinnamon.

Aerith blushed. He was completely nude in front of her. He reminded himself that she was still young enough to feel embarrassed by his nudity.

He would never forget the moment he awoke to her face bent over him worriedly. He would never forget the shock of sincere sweetness and genuine kindness he had never known before.

Sephiroth was many things – war hero, former General, SOLDIER and the list went on. However, Sephiroth was also many _other_ things – cold, calculating, strategic, ruthless, uncaring to a point and…very lonely.

Aerith Gainsborough. He would keep her, have her, take her – _make her his ._ His reasons were his own but they were absolute. He needed her. So he took her away and made her his wife.

Sephiroth towered over her by the bathroom door.

"Dinner's ready." His wife looked up at him shyly.

He bent and sniffed her neck, he felt her shiver. She fidgeted, clasping her hands together as he peered into her eyes. "I-I made c-cookies for you." A dimpled smile appeared and his heart tightened. "They're cinnamon cookies."

Her nervousness was an aphrodisiac to him and he needed her to absolve him, to keep the terror at bay. The uncertainty of who and what he was.

Sephiroth lifted her to their bed despite her protests.

She gaped at him. "The food will turn cold…"

He laid her flat on her back and reached beneath her dress, pulling at her underwear, sliding it down smooth legs.

"What are you d-doing?" Aerith stammered, watching as he tossed her underwear to the floor. She looked absolutely terrified. He smirked.

He tossed the skirt of her dress and apron upward, piling it around her hips until she was bare before him.

"Sephiroth - "

He would lose himself in her, bury his memories to smother the nightmares.

* * *

Sephiroth looked down at hands and trembled.

All he could think in that moment was that blood was the color red, but with the moonlight and darkness, it almost appeared black.

His head began to pound.

 _"Am I...a human being?"_

 _"No such luck," a familiar voice taunted. "You are a monster."_

 _Nearby he heard Zack yell. But he was too distracted and paid no attention to the other SOLDIER. His mind was ablaze, wondering if it could be possible. He blinked as fire shot past him and he watched, detached, as Zack was blasted off his feet. His senses snapped and he reacted reflexively, lifting his left arm, shielding himself from another offending blast that had been aimed for him._

 _He heard the beat of a wing and instantly knew who it was. He was not surprised that even in his degraded state, the flame haired man still looked as arrogant as ever._

 _"Sephiroth you were the greatest monster created by the Jenova Project."_

 _Zack's struggled to his feet. "Genesis...so you are alive!"_

 _"I suppose I am. If you call this living."_

 _Though it seemed that Genesis's pride remained intact, he looked haggard and wasted. His face was crusting; the skin peeling and his once brilliant eyes shriveling. He was degrading rapidly._

 _Sephiroth didn't care and merely looked at him. "What is the Jenova Project?"_

 _Genesis turned hard mocking eyes his way. "The Jenova Project was the term used for all experiments...relating to the use of Jenova's cells."_

 _"My mother's...cells?" Sephiroth could hardly finish the sentence._

 _Genesis opened his arms wide, "Poor little Sephiroth. You've never actually met your mother." There was a pitying look in his eyes as he sat on the stairs. "You've only been told her name, no?"_

 _Having been told by one of his several caretakers that his father was unknown and assumed dead in a previous war, he'd only been given the name 'Jenova' for his mother. That had been enough for him. He'd secretly cherished that name.  
_

 _"I don't know what images you've conjured up in your head, but..."_

 _Suddenly Zack yelled in an urgent, pained voice. "Genesis, no!"_

 _And as Sephiroth stood, motionless, Genesis told him the horrible truth._

 _"Jenova was excavated from a two thousand year old rock layer…she's a monster."_

 _Sephiroth would have laughed, would have reacted but…nothing came out. Instead, he shook his head and stepped backward._

 _Monster.  
_

 _An abomination spawned by mako energy._

 _He was dimly aware that he'd said those words to Zack only minutes earlier._

 _"Sephiroth, I need your help." Genesis eyed him warily. "My body is continuing to degrade."_

 _Inwardly, he felt like he was on the verge of suffocating. The massive doors that read Jenova within reach. The truth within reach.  
_

 _"SOLDIER 1st Class Sephiroth! Jenova Project G gave birth to Angeal and monsters like myself." Genesis lifted his arms carelessly. "Jenova Project S..."_

 _Sephiroth stared hard at the doors.  
_

 _From the corner, he heard Zack's horrified whisper. "S...?"_

 _"…used the remains of countless failed experiments to create a perfect monster."  
_

 _Sephiroth clenched his jaw, shut his eyes briefly and in a pained tone, ground out harshly, "What do you want of me?"_

 _"You're traits cannot be copied unto others. Your genes can't be diffused." A glint of anger flashed in the other man's eyes. "Therefore, your body cannot degrade." The jealousy was evident in his tone._

 _Sephiroth watched coldly as Genesis approached him._

 _"Share your cells with me." Genesis extended an apple in his direction and recited LOVELESS. "My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess."_

 _He could feel his world shaking around him._

 _Everything he had ever known was crumbling beneath his feet._

 _ _"Whether your words are lies created to deceive me..."_ Sephiroth looked at the words Jenova once more and then turned hard eyes to his former comrade, "...or the truth that I have sought all my life." __He saw the brief second Genesis's face turned hopeful right before he destroyed it._ _"It makes no difference." Sephiroth sneered, shoving the extended apple away. His eyes narrowed cruelly. "You will rot."_

 _He left the reactor not sparing a glance backward._

 _"I see...perfect monster indeed..." he heard Genesis whisper as the doors shut behind him._

 _Later that night he sought the truth and barricaded himself in the library of the Shinra Mansion where his mind finally broke._

 _He went back to the reactor and tore through the mouth of hell that held his mother. With bloodied hands, he broke the confinements that surrounded the tank and slashed open the glass that carried an alien female inside._

 _The nude creature fell across broken glass. Her body was mangled from the large tubes and holes that had been inserted in and around her. Sephiroth stared, expressionless for a moment, and then without ceremony or hesitation he lifted the Masamune and sliced off her head in one single motion._

Sephiroth shook his head to clear his vision.

The memories.

The dreams. The nightmares.

The blur was tangible and not. Here and there he could feel bits and pieces of himself withering away.

What was happening to him?

Stumbling through the monstrous mess and blood, Sephiroth walked over to one of the dead carcasses - reached for the Masamune embedded in the corpse - and walked home.


	8. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV**

* * *

The Northern Continent was huge and vastly empty, nothing but white snow and clear skies with a blizzard more often than not. The closest touch of humanity was the town of Argon which miles away. She wanted to go into town and explore what it had to offer but she was forbidden. She sighed, knowing better than to entertain such thoughts. She had been raised in the city slums. She was used to towering buildings, the neon lights of gambling hells that littered the streets and the crowds of people. In contrast, this place so quiet one could hear the stillness of the wilderness and the lonely howl of a wolf from a distance. In the city, she'd longed for this kind of peace. Midgar was dirty, polluted and largely corrupt. She should consider herself lucky. One would never behold a sight like this in Midgar; a snowy haven, an eternal Christmas season.

Aerith kicked at the snow, humming, clearly bored. She'd forgotten to put on her gloves and now her hands were freezing. The General said she was always daydreaming. He was right. She was somewhere between girl and woman. She was eighteen and confused. But she had a lot on her mind, a lot to worry about. She was married to a man so psychologically troubled that she was afraid to sleep next to him at night. She didn't know what she wanted, not really anyway...only that she wanted to be with him. She was both terrified and fascinated by him.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize she'd walked past a specific tree that Sephiroth had marked months ago. He'd explained that the wildlife past this area was unpredictable and thus she should consider it dangerous and never go beyond the marked tree. However, the only wildlife she'd seen so far were a few deer, maybe a rabbit or two and once she'd watched a fox go past their house. He was orange and white and stared at her from the window before turning away, leaving small paw prints in the snow.

Suddenly, a gunshot sounded.

"I got one, John!"

She heard loud male voices followed by deep rumbles of laughter.

"Finally caught the fucking bird!"

A series of gunshots blasted in the air again.

"Dan, you son of a bitch! You shot the wrong bird!"

Aerith began to panic. Where could she go to hide? She practically stood in an open field of snow. Her heart beat hard staccatos.

"Do you want to be found?"

A dark shadow obliterated the sun, towering over her. She raised her eyes, raised and raised them until she looked straight into her husband's furious glare of mako. With her heart lodged in her throat, she could only gape at him uselessly, face burning with guilt.

"N-no…"

Strong arms wrapped around her.

"Shut your eyes, girl."

She squeezed them shut.

"Hey guys…I think I see someone over there!"

Aerith clutched the fabric of Sephiroth's coat and suddenly felt her world tilted.

When she opened my eyes they stood in front of their house.

He wasn't normal.

She blinked.

But neither was she.

"I'm really sorry," she stared at his black boots. There was silence above her. She felt his unnerving gaze.

"Go inside."

She nodded and walked towards their front door and then turned to look behind her.

"What about you -"

The question was spoken to no one because her husband no longer stood there. There weren't even boot prints to mark his existence.

Her hands shook as she shoved the key into the keyhole of the door. She pressed her palms together, waiting for calm, wanting it so badly, but found none.

Those men would die. He was going to kill them. All of them. He would never risk a sighting of them, of even a mere whisper that could ruin their quiet life in the north. Oh no. She knew him well enough to know he would never let those men live to tell any sort of tale. Better that they never open their mouths again than for them to go back into town and wonder, perhaps over a drink, about the people they may or may have not seen. Sephiroth would slaughter those men and it would be her fault, because she'd gone too far, because she'd passed the mark.

Aerith never went beyond that tree again.

* * *

He was cutting wood outside. A large pile of logs grew next to him. Each stroke of the axe against the wood was the same methodical slice. His eyes were vacant as he did the repetitive motion. Chop. Chop. Chop. She'd heard it go on for more than an hour now.

Aerith sat on the steps of the porch, watching him.

"Aren't you tired?"

He was in mid-swing, the axe poised above his head when he turned to glare at her.

"No."

She swallowed. "Do you…do you _ever_ get tired?"

Chop.

"What kind of a stupid question is that?"

She frowned, hurt. "It's…it's not stupid."

Chop.

"Of course I do."

He shook his head in disbelief as if to tell her – _what odd things you say_.

"Why don't you take a break then?"

Chop.

"You want me to stop?" He told her as the axe fell again.

"I'm…I'm just wondering why you…y-you've been doing for over an hour when we've got plenty of firewood," she stopped when he dropped the axe and came toward her.

"For fuck's sake, girl, I'm doing this to distract my mind!" He yelled at her, deep voice booming in the wilderness.

"O-okay…alright," she looked down at the snow, suddenly out of questions.

He stood before her, quiet and staring.

Minutes passed in awkward silence. She stared at her boots while his gaze burned holes through her.

"Fine, we'll have it your way," he said gruffly, taking her by the arm and dragging her into the house.

"What do you mean?" She tried to slow her panicked breath.

He kicked the door shut, eyes gleaming.

"I'm taking a break, _wife_ ," he pulled her to him, the irritation faded from his eyes to reveal lust and raw desire. "And you're taking it with me."

* * *

He had her bent over the bed, her underwear dangling from one ankle. Somehow he'd removed the thick tights and scratchy wool skirt and sweater she had on. She was left in nothing but her bra, her hair tossed over her shoulder while he bent to bite her neck, hard.

She wanted to turn around, to look at him, but he kept her in place, hips lifted high to receive each jagged thrust he gave her.

"Fuck," he groaned behind her. Shivers coursed through her.

He was rough this time. Taking with selfish abandon and barely contained restraint. But Aerith did not mind, nor care that much. She received him with open arms, wanting to convey through her body that he was not alone. She as here with him.

One hand grabbed her breast, pinched her nipple, while the other went between her legs.

She screamed into the sheets.

* * *

A few days later Aerith went down to the basement.

"It must be totally soundproof here."

She looked at the collection of weapons mounted on the wall. There were so many she didn't know what to make of them. Guns, knives, staffs, swords, you name it, apparently, her husband had it.

Again the question of how? And more importantly…why?

Sephiroth's military armor hung in a secured closet. She knew that much. He'd lugged it along with them in a large duffel bag all the way from Midgar. She thought, perhaps, he wanted it for a keepsake from his other life. Maybe she was being too sentimental.

Whatever the reasons he barricaded weapons beneath the house, she certainly wasn't going to as ask about the weapons.

Her husband did not and would probably never explain himself to her liking. She was also very aware of how vulnerable she was with _and_ without him. There were many facts of life she still did not understand because those were situations usually dealt with by 'adults'. Though she'd been raised in Midgar, she'd been extremely sheltered her entire life. She was extremely sheltered even now. She didn't know anything about their personal finances or bank accounts. She didn't know if anything was in her name or if it was all in Sean Thorne's name? She never asked, never bothered to question Sephiroth about it. What could she do if he ever left her or died? There were no flowers to sell where they lived. That thought alone was unrealistic. She had no proper education, no employment history, no living biological relatives. As far as the world knew, Aerith Gainsborough was missing or perhaps, by now, she had been declared legally dead.

She never asked him where he obtained the funds to buy her clothes and other basic necessities. He produced money like it was nothing, reaching into his pocket for a black card that bore the name Sean Thorne. With every swipe of that card they bought passage, supplies and food. With his hair cut so short and special contacts in his eyes to reduce the glow of mako, he appeared somewhat…less noticeable. The silver hair and incredibly pale skin was rather suspicious so during their journey he wore a black tuque to cover the most obvious giveaway. After all, normal people did not have silver hair.

There was no time to go back in the past and ask her seventeen year old self, are you sure you want to do this? Because at the time, there'd been no thought. After finishing her house chores, she'd told Elmyra she was going for a walk. Her stepmother was none the wiser and nodded absently, bidding her a good day. Aerith had looked at Elmyra for a moment, the only mother she had ever known, before she slipped out the door and into Sephiroth's hands.

She'd married a stranger.

A killer.

A broken man.

And then there was Zack. Again. Always Zack. The guilt, shame and confusion that she associated with thinking about Zack and trying to be loyal to her husband was too much. In fact, it was drowning her.

He'd been so excited to see her when he came back from Nibelheim. She was the first person he saw, he'd told as much before she rejected him, badly.

 _She turned her face away, just in the nick of time so that his lips brushed her cheek instead. When she wouldn't meet his gaze,_ _he placed a hand under her chin and turned her face towards him._

 _"Are you okay?" he asked, letting go of her chin. "I know I promised I'd call but you know how it is with work."_

 _Sparing a glance high above the stairs she imagined she saw a tall, dark shadow lurking. She wasn't sure._

 _"I'm sorry Zack," she hoped she sounded firm. She turned around and prepared herself for the confrontation she'd been waiting for. But she was a coward. She didn't want to look at him._

 _A calloused hand descended on her shoulder. She inhaled audibly remembering how she used to crave his touch, confused at the emotions swirling inside her. What did grown up women do? How could she handle this gracefully?_

 _Squaring her shoulders, she shrugged his hand away. "Please don't touch me."_

 _There was shock in his voice._ _"Aerith? I know I've been gone a long time, but -"_

 _There was no turning back now._

 _She turned to face him and looked him directly in the eyes._

 _"Zack...I-I...don't think...we should be…together anymore."_

 _Confusion etched his handsome face. The blue eyes didn't waver from hers._

 _"Why?" There was no judgement in his voice, just a simple question._

 _She blinked back tears and decided to stare at his boots instead. "I...just…I can't do this anymore."_

 _What should she do? What did she know? She'd never broken up with a boy before. She was only seventeen._

 _"Aerith, I haven't been gone that long. What's suddenly changed to make you…to make you not want to be with me anymore? I thought we had a good thing going?" There was disbelief in his tone._

 _Swallowing, she saw his gloved hands clench and she lifted her eyes to meet his again._

 _She wanted to tell him, I'm sorry. But she couldn't. There was so much pain in his eyes she felt like she might burst into tears for the both of them. Resisting the urge to wrap her arms around him in comfort, she opted for crossing her arms instead._

 _And all the while, she felt eyes boring through her back from the dark corner above. But maybe she was imaging it. Maybe she was too aware of the silver haired General who lay unconscious upstairs._

 _"I deserve an explanation, Aerith. I just got back from Nibelheim...the mission was a disaster," his eyes wounded her. He made no move to reach for her again."The past few weeks have been a living hell without you. All I've been thinking about during the time we've been apart was **you**."_

 _How could she possibly respond to that?_

 _He took a slight step forward, bringing their bodies closer. "Don't shut me out, not when I've just returned. I literally ran to come here right now, I just got back half an hour ago. You've been the only thing on my mind." He brought up a hand, reaching out to touch her cheek. "I owe you a date, remember?"_

 _She faltered backward and felt a calloused fingertip graze her cheekbone._

 _"I'm so sorry Zack."_

 _He sighed and then suddenly raised his voice, "Gods, Aerith - I-I... **why** are you doing this? Don't you understand that I'm here, I'm back, why are you pushing me away? It doesn't make sense." He made an aggravated sound._

 _Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I-I...just can't...be...w-with you anymore." Her voice trembled. "I know you don't understand -"_

 _"Is it your mom? Because I know she hates military men," he glared at the stained glass window, long ago broken. "The way she looks at me tells me she'd like to skin me alive."_

 _"No...it's not Elmyra."_

 _There was a bleak silence that followed and when she looked up at him there was suspicion in his eyes._

 _"Is it someone else?"_

 _So quiet, he'd said it so quietly she barely heard._ _Her heartbeat accelerated. Was it loud? Could he hear her treacherous heart beat? How could she explain this?_

 _She could not._

 _She had secrets to keep._

 _"Zack...I...I..."_

 _But he cut her off sharply._

 _"Don't, Aerith."_

 _Her gaze collided with his._

 _"What?"_

 _He swallowed. "Never mind. Don't answer that." His jaw clenched and then after a long pause he said, "Don't ever tell me there's someone else... because I refuse to believe it." His eyes darkened._

 _They stood quietly, facing each other, saying nothing for a long moment._

 _A beeping noise interrupted and he reached for his back pocket for his phone. He cursed audibly, frustrated. He stared at the screen. He turned around and walked towards the entrance and said over his shoulder, "_ _I'm going to pretend we didn't have this conversation."_

 _Her eyes widened, confused and sad for him, for her. "Zack, please - it's o-over...you can't just pretend this didn't happen."_

 _He whirled around, anger in his eyes. "No, Aerith, it's_ _**not** over."_

 _The beeping noise continued and he looked down at his phone again. "The President is dead along with one of their lead scientists."_

 _"Who would do such a thing?" She was shocked. President Shinra - dead?_

 _This time, it was he who averted his gaze from her. "I can't tell you that…it's classified. But...I knew the killer. He was with me during the mission to Nibelheim…but then he disappeared."_ _He looked at her one more time, his eyes softening. "I'll see you later, Aerith."_

 _She watched him leave and after the doors shut, she dropped to her knees and cried._

Memories were unavoidable especially when she was alone. Sephiroth was hunting and it was during her time alone in their house that the past came to remind her that her actions would have consequences.

The months that followed her pathetic attempt to break-up with Zack were filled with him trying to win her back. The more he came by to persuade her, the more she pushed him away. And the more he came by, the more General Sephiroth became jealous. Sephiroth's jealous was trigger to bouts of instability which made nursing him back to physical health more difficult.

And while she carried guilt in regards to Zack, she was also guilty of keeping secrets from her husband.

What was wrong with her? She worried she was becoming duplicitous.

Because she'd never told Sephiroth about her Cetran blood, her Ancient heritage. To him, she supposed, she was simply a poor flower girl from the slums of Midgar.

She wished that were the case but it wasn't.

But Aerith was young and naive, still a newly minted eighteen years old. So she believed that they could go on living this way, here in the north, hidden by reality, their secrets and lies carried by them to be buried with them one day.


	9. Chapter V

**Chapter V**

* * *

He watched her.

When he first saw her he'd been in a delirium not knowing if he truly yet dead or not quite living. The face he saw between times brought him hope if any god or gods did exist, they'd finally delivered him from his sins. But when the face disappeared he was sure he was in the pits of hell. His obsession for her had begun with his delirium. There had been no turning back after that.

And then he'd discovered that Aerith was the girl his subordinate Zack Fair had spoken of. A girl he was interested in.

Without realizing it was Aerith, he'd already known about her.

There were no secrets in Shinra, especially when it concerned their SOLDIERS. They could not afford secrecy. Their lives were an open book to the Shinra Army and in return they were generously compensated. Fair's every correspondence and meeting with Aerith had been documented and noted down by army spies. A simple flower girl. Nothing of consequence, the files read. Sephiroth didn't care who his SOLDIERS shacked up with as long as they remained loyal and in fit fighting health to the army. He wasted no time in wondering over the personal lives of subordinates.

So it was to his shock when Zack appeared in Aerith's church right after the disastrous Nibelheim mission. He'd watched as Aerith rejected Zack. Watched the boy's face change from excitement to confusion and then frustration and then stubborn denial.

If Sephiroth had still been thinking rationally, he may have felt pity for the boy. Instead, all he felt was murderous rage that the boy had even approached Aerith.

There was no rational when it came to his wife. He was more animal than human when it came to her.

There was mostly anger.

He could barely contain his rage in front of Aerith and more often than not, unleashed it upon her. It was the reason why he left during the night to slay monsters, he vented his anger and frustration when he killed. Whatever got in his way was fine; he needed an outlet for the rage. Sometimes he felt that she could tell his quiet and distant face was a facade hiding the madness that lay within.

But here, in their quiet life where time passed both too slowly too fast, Sephiroth realized that his obsession with her was consuming him entirely.

He would sit in the kitchen and observe her as she hummed and chattered away while she cooked their meals or made him a cup of tea. He would sit in the living room, looking at her as she read a book, sometimes out loud and sometimes not. And at night, he watched as she dissolved around him, coming for him, gasping his name as if she were dying. He wanted to die with her.

He watched her to keep him from breaking.

* * *

 _Sephiroth kept an eye on the high braid of mahogany hair wrapped in a large pink bow. The girl bent her head and clasped her hands together._

 _It was time._

 _The others were coming for her, determined to save her. He wanted to laugh out loud, he wanted to throw his head back and laugh and laugh until he choked. No, there would be no savior for this one._

 _He descended upon her like a dark wraith, his great katana bearing down swiftly. The air slashed his cheeks, his hair whipping around him. The urge for violence, the need to kill was at his fingertips! He would slay her as he was meant to, as he was commanded to._

 _He was the last of his kind._

 _He was The Chosen One._

 _He would lead this planet into its execution and purification._

 _This was his purpose - his destiny!_

 _The Masamune tore through the girl's slender back._

 _He blinked and somewhere, he thought he heard a muffled cry and then silence. He looked down and saw the the girl's form slumped over, blood mixing with the water beneath them..._

Sephiroth blinked at his reflection.

The mirror cracked slowly before it finally broke and suddenly shattered. Glass was embedded in his knuckles but he didn't feel any pain. Blood dripped onto the sink. His eyes lifted to his splintered image in the broken mirror.

In a wave of fury he lifted his other first and slashed the mirror until there was no more glass to break, no more twisted nightmares reflecting back at him.

* * *

There had been no snow today. The sky was clear and the sun glinted off the icy terrain beyond their window.

Sephiroth heard her nervous approach from where he sat in the kitchen.

"Can I ask you s-something?"

"Go ahead.

"Can...can you tell me about yourself?"

He watched her keenly, assessing her pale complexion and tense body. She wore a short-sleeved pale lavender dress that reached just below her knees, exposing the smooth lines of her legs. Her lustrous hair was tied back and swept over her left shoulder. She was also barefoot. Her feet were so small and delicate; he remembered comparing them to his own hands and marveling at how _small_ she was. Her toes curled and uncurled against the tiles of the kitchen. He looked away from her. She was the absolute picture of innocence. His jaw clenched. And no matter how many times he tainted that innocence, she always remained as if she was still completely untouched.

"That's a loaded question," he rose from the chair, towering.

She bit her lip and he watched as she began to fidget with her apron.

"It's...it's not an unreasonable thing to ask, General." She flexed slim fingers against her hip. "I don't really know anything about you. I-I think we can both agree on that...right?"

Sephiroth approached her knowing all too well how his presence overwhelmed her. He used it to his advantage. Constantly. And as he expected, her body began to tremble. From where he stood he could hear the rapid thrum of her pulse through enhanced senses. He inhaled. The smell of flowers constantly clung to her underneath all the layers of difference scents. His gaze dipped to graze her lips, swollen from his nocturnal obsessions.

He felt his own pulse accelerate.

"Be more specific."

"I know it's probably late to be bringing this up," she struggled for composure and blinked rapidly when he took another step towards her. "But...as t-time passed and well...we're married now...I thought maybe you'd...open up to me more."

Somewhere out in the cold wild, a wolf howled.

When he was finally close enough, he took her small clenched hand and unfurled her tight fingers. Goosebumps appeared on her arm. "About what?"

She cleared her throat and anchored her neck back, raising emerald eyes to meet his glowing mako ones.

"You. I just want to...k-know more...about you. I...I want us to be closer. I don't know what to do. _Please_. These past few months have been very confusing...and I'm...I'm..."

He looked away from her thinking, nothing would change if he told her any more than she already knew or assumed. He was neither human nor Ancient. Would she be able to understand that? If he was neither, then he was a monster.

"You are what?" He ground out.

She went to him then, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I'm afraid."

He bent his silver head and looked down at her little form snug against his, so trustingly.

"Ever since we met...all I wanted was to be with you..." she lifted her face to him. "And n-none of it mattered to me - your past. And then, when we got married, I thought you would...but..." her eyes watered and her tone became frantic. "...but...General, I don't know what's happening anymore!"

So young, looking at her youthful upturned face, he was reminded again that she was not yet a full grown woman. She was a girl on the verge of womanhood. And terribly naive.

Silence ensued.

He brought his hands to rest on her shoulders.

"What exactly do you want to know, wife?" He tipped her chin up, forcing her watery eyes to meet his again.

She blinked once. "Anything you want to tell me."

"I've told you everything you need to you know already." He told her, loosing calm. "Why? Because I don't know myself. Does that help? Does that comfort you, little girl?"

"Why?" The question came out a hoarse whisper. "Why are you being so cruel?"

The grip on her chin tightened and when her features contorted in pain, he released her and turned away from her wounded gaze.

"Please... why do you turn away? Why are we living this way?" She gripped his shirt, tugging. "What are you not telling me...please!"

He snapped.

"What pretty words," he said darkly. "Coming from such a pretty mouth."

She backed away from him and lifted her gaze to his maddened eyes.

"You don't understand anything do you, girl?" His upper body curved inward as he continued to laugh. But his laughter was that of a sick man - an insane man. His wife watched with great apprehension and fear as her husband continued his terrible laugh. She took another step backward, and then another, until she hit the edge of the kitchen sink.

"W-what..." His wife couldn't speak. She continued to stare at him in fearful confusion.

Then the mirth was gone but the blackness around him stayed.

"You already know who I am."

"You...y-you're avoiding my question. Y-you know...what I m-meant."

A tangible panic set in his spine and crawled up his neck. But his expression was smooth and emotionless, mako eyes cryptic and dim. Pupils narrowed into slits.

"I have nothing to tell you," he all but spat. "Nothing. Do you understand?"

So what did he do?

"No answers to your fucking questions. Nothing but this," he gestured to himself. "Nothing but me!"

Sephiroth did as he always did.

"Just me."

He took her body.

In one swift movement he caught her tense body in his arms and set her down on the counter before him. He tore her pretty dress in half, ignoring the horrified shriek that came along with it.

"You want to know me," he ground out menacingly. "I will show you, flower girl."

She was completely naked underneath, having worn nothing beneath the dress. The sight of her bare body, breasts firm and high, nipples erect, drew the breath right out of him. His eyes trailed fire down her belly and to her woman's center.

"General!" His wife tried to cover her nudity, slim arms crossing over her chest. He took her hands and pinned them to the counter. "No!"

He was used to this dance; he knew everything her body would throw at him. She would fight him first and then, cruel bastard that he was, he would feel her softening against him -

"Don't hide yourself." His tone was thick with lust and anger. "You belong to me."

\- because he knew her body, if not her heart.

His wife was young and she really didn't know any better. Her body didn't know any better than to react to his touch.

And just as he expected, he felt her small fists attempt to bang against his chest in futile movements.

"Sephiroth!" She cried, trying to kick away from him.

Large hands grasped her writhing body taking hold of her hips, drawing her forward to the edge of the counter.

"You want to know who I am?"

Bending to her, he claimed her mouth, forcing his tongue inside - tasting nectar.

Almost instantly, her fighting body softened and he was tempted to laugh into her mouth. He nipped her bottom lip and angled her mouth to his.

Her clenched hands fell. She sighed into his mouth. He groaned, threading his other hand through her hair, the scent of flowers assaulting his senses, drugging him. His grip on her hip tightened and he drew her against him, her thighs automatically parting as he stood in between them.

"You want to know who I am, flower girl," he ground against her mouth.

She looked at him through watery emerald eyes.

"Yes," she whispered, voice hoarse and eyes pleading. "Tell me who you are."

"You want to know," he murmured blackly, bending to her neck, sucking her tender flesh - hard.

Jaw clenching, his resolve faded entirely. She would take him as he was, he decided. He would tell her with his hands and mouth who he was.

There was no turning back for either of them.

"This is who I am."

Sephiroth took her there on the counter, hooking her legs to wrap around his waist, bending to her breasts. He shaped them with his hands and sucked them greedily with his lips until she began to moan and he watched as her eyes clouded over, mouth parting as her breath began to hitch.

"You want to know who I am, wife?"

He straightened, broad shoulders shadowing over her quivering body, mako eyes blazing. He ran his hand down her body, stopping down the center of her. The heat of her nearly undid him.

"I am Sephiroth," he slid a two fingers inside her.

She cried out.

His thumb teased over her as he pushed another finger inside, stretching the contracting muscles. He ground his teeth, his own vision beginning to cloud. Her hips bucked against his hand. Her mouth opened but only another wordless sound came out, muffled by a sharp cry.

"I am a killer," he bit down hard on her nipple and then soothed the reddening flesh with his tongue, whispering,"...I have torn through beating hearts...and I reveled in all that bloodshed."

Always, she brought the **worst** out in him. This one small person held his beating heart in her dainty hands.

"Who am I," he withdrew his fingers from her, ignoring her moaning protest as her legs tightened around his waist, head falling to the side, out of breath.

She was close - he could feel it. Her body was already a delicious pink hue.

Slowly, he undid his belt, loosening his black pants. He took hold of her hips, lifting her, and then -

Heaven. She was his heaven.

\- there was relief.

"I am your husband."

So he did as he pleased, just as he always did. He did as she loved, just as he always did.

But inside, his heart was breaking.

Monster.

* * *

When dusk fell and both he and Aerith collapsed from near exhaustion, he carried her upstairs to their bedroom. After tucking her into bed he lay next to her hoping there would be nothing to greet him when his eyes closed. He was turning into an insomniac because of the nightmares.

But that night would be the first night he dreamt of **her**.

And it would not be the last.

 _A woman stood on the edge of a cliff surrounded by stars._

 _Sephiroth felt disconnected from everything he had ever known._ _He turned to question the woman but was taken aback by her strange appearance. The woman wore armor like nothing he'd ever seen before. Symbols were carved throughout the silver metal which encased most of her tall figure except for the exposed pale skin of her upper elbows and thighs. The longer he stared at her, the more he was starting to feel strange. His eyes devoured the long train of silver hair that flowed down her back._

 _Who are you?_ _He wanted to ask but he had no voice here._

 _His heart began to pound. Her face remained turned away as if she was looking down into whatever abyss there was beyond the cliff they shared._

 _Sephiroth took a step forward, mouth opening -_

 _\- and she finally turned her face towards him._

 _There was nothing plainly human about her face. Her skin was so pale it bordered on translucent. Her features were symmetrical, perfect. Intense v_ _iolet eyes stared back at him and he realized with something akin to a dawning horror that they nearly had the same face!_

 _Her mouth moved. He shook his head. He did not understand her words._

 _Suddenly, large silver wings sprouted from her back. The cliff shook beneath his feet, rumbling._

 _He could not speak. He was awestruck by her. She looked like an angel dressed for war._

 _Her words came to him again, the feminine voice almost familiar and haunting, like a long lost memory._

 _This this time he understood._

 ** _Avenge me._**

 _And then she took flight and disappeared into space and time._


	10. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI**

* * *

Frustrated he threw the Masamune aside, dropped to his knees and screamed.

The sound echoed in the wild.

Then nothing but silence.

His shoulders heaved, silver hair falling in front of bright green eyes.

There were light bruises around her ribs and large finger markings around her inner thighs, obvious proof of how rough he had been with her. There was no apology from him either. She never approached him after that – never asked him of that night again. There was no control when she incensed him. The regret would roll in waves later on.

Since the Nibelheim revelation and the torturous days that followed before he killed his father, he'd entertained the thought of suicide. He was the abomination of science, a super soldier produced by the most powerful corporation in the world, a General the people adored and feared and now here he was – a broken man with a shattered mentality trying to stay afloat, trying to keep alive because though he hated himself, hated his past, he had one thing to live for. One person.

And so he forced life into his veins because he could not imagine a world where Aerith did not exist.

However, that didn't stop him from having deluded fantasies of dying. It didn't stop the temptation to jump off the cliff and plummet to a bloody death of crushed and broken bones. The world would be better off without another monster - better to be rid of him.

The wind picked up as he neared the edge of a snowy cliff. He found the sight of it very attractive as he picked up pace nearing the seemingly bottomless view below.

He was mad at the world, at everyone. But what he hated the most was the alien blood that flowed inside him, pumping into his heart. The rage was unending, the injustice of it all – _of everything_ – drove him even further to the recesses of his mind.

 _"My mother's name is Jenova." He did not realize his offhand admission, continuing, not noticing the shocked expression of a certain lower class SOLDIER. "She died shortly after I was born. My father…"_

 _He realized his error and shook his head. "Why am I talking about this?"_

The cliff was before him before he even realized it. In the dark of night there was nothing but a black abyss beneath. It would be a long fall for whoever deemed to go over.

He barely heard it in the wind, but there it was.

 ** _Avenge me._**

He flinched and whirled around, his boot an inch away from the edge -

\- and gasped.

She stood there, the silver winged woman, so close to him, _so real_. The same woman from his dream. His nightmare. He wasn't sure which was which anymore. Her arms were crossed and those dark violet eyes looked into his with deadly calm.

Suddenly, her deep ruby red lips tilted in a ghost of a smile.

He blinked.

"Not real," he whispered.

He closed his eyes.

"You aren't real."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

 _Not real not real notreanorealnorealnoreal..._

And when he opened his eyes she was gone.

* * *

The firelight played over his face.

Aerith gazed into those exotic orbs, fascinated.

The beautiful eyes blinked and narrowed down at her. The wide mouth curled at the edge. She swallowed thickly, staring at those lips. It reminded her of a pirate's grin. Wicked man.

Aerith's brain stopped thinking when she felt his hand on her breast. She bit her lip when he squeezed rather hard.

He had her lying on a blanket in front of the fireplace…and she was completely naked. Aerith thought it was a shame that he wasn't naked too. But, of course, she was far too shy to ask him to shed his clothes. She was probably blushing everywhere. He was gazing openly at her nude form from head to toe.

The large hand moved to squeeze her other breast. Her breath hitched and caught in her throat. The wicked grin turned into a hard line. His eyes darkened, hand still on her breast. Aerith looked up into his face longingly.

She wanted to ask him if he loved her, how much he cared about her and did she mean anything to him at all? She was wanted to know desperately. But she was afraid of him. She found it very conflicting to feel safe with someone and terrified of them in the next instant.

His leaned down, pressed his lips to hers and kissed her softly. They were butterfly kisses, gentle and barely there. Aerith shivered. He loomed over her. His hand drifted down her torso…down her belly...and further down. He lifted his mouth from hers for a moment and looked into her eyes. She licked her lips. Her brows drew together at his expression.

What was that? What _is_ that?

All of a sudden the gentleness left him and his eyes hardened.

"General?"

"Get on your knees for me, flower girl."

"What?"

His eyes narrowed.

"You heard me."

"But…"

A silver brow rose expectantly.

"Now, _wife_."

He got off the floor and sat on the couch, leaned back and continued observe her through calculating eyes.

Aerith looked at the ceiling for a second and contemplated. _What does he want? What does he need?_

"Aerith."

She got up and came to him. She had butterflies in her belly, fluttering and coiling with heat. She loved the way he looked at her – like a man dying for thirst. She dropped to her knees before him, tossing long hair over her shoulder.

"Come here."

"I'm here, General."

"Get closer."

"Alright."

She placed tentative hands on either side of his thighs. He leaned his head against the couch, his hard gaze shuttering as she sat on the floor before him.

* * *

The bathroom was covered in fine mist. The mirrors were fogged, the air sweet with the smell of chamomile soap.

Aerith knelt by the bathtub, sponge in hand, running it over the length of pale skin over hard muscle that belonged to her husband who - over-sized as he was - sat in the tub with his knees bent. Sephiroth stared with vacant eyes at the tiled wall, barely registering to her gentle scrubbing. His hair was covered in soapy suds, silver strands sticking out in different directions.

"When we met, I believed that whatever happened before no longer applied to our present. We were and are...just. I wanted us to be. I think…I wanted to believe that." Aerith listened to his low baritone, moved and shocked by his sudden honesty.

"You wanted to put behind…what exactly?" Aerith asked gently, wiping the pattern of wetness trailing down his pale neck.

His eyes shifted and she shook at the magnitude of what she saw in them.

"The past. If you only knew. You would run from me as you should have the day we met. You should have screamed for help or left me to die. You knew I wanted to die...I deserve death."

"No! Everybody d-deserves a chance to live." Aerith stood, shocked and angry, offended. "Everybody deserves life."

Sephiroth did not look up at her. "You've lived nothing but a sheltered life, girl. You've been protected in that filth you once called a home, walking naively in and out of the mouth of hell every single day. Don't be so quick to defend life. Not everyone is entitled to it."

Her wet hands clenched. "That's horrible of you to say."

A silver brow rose, ever the pessimist and skeptic. "What would you have me say then? That people who have committed savage crimes don't deserve to die? You would have them burn the entire planet in righteous belief that they deserve a second chance when, in fact, they deserve nothing but death. They should never have been born." He chuckled and Aerith shivered at his dark tone. "If I could, believe me, _if I had that ability_ , I would make it so. I would change this world."

She looked at him, riveted by his sudden rapturous expression, some akin to determination. Something that resembled the brief glimpses of utter and complete madness that threatened to consume him whole at times.

Water sloshed around the tub as he rose, naked, towering in front of her. "Wouldn't that be beautiful? To live in such an ideal world where there is no crime, no death, no hate. A perfect utopia."

"B-but that's…that's not possible!" She stammered, wide eyed. "None of us are perfect, we're all flawed."

"Correct. But _could_ we be perfect? If one was determined enough, strong enough to fulfill a goal, couldn't they achieve it?" He asked sardonically. "You, for example, who chooses to believe in the goodness of others. Such goodness only requires faith, is that not so? According to your logic, if I believed I could be perfect and if I tried my hardest then I would be."

He was throwing her beliefs back at her, again. He was making fun of her, humiliating what he firmly believed was far too naive for his own pessimistic views.

He stepped out of the tub, long body gleaming wet in the misty air, leaving her alone in the bathroom.

* * *

What would it feel like to wrap his hands around that slender throat? What would it feel like to press his fingers around it and squeeze until life's breath left her? Would it be glorious? To see the emerald fade into nothing in her eyes, to see her choke and wheeze as he pressed harder and harder still, until she finally left this world and into another realm of eternity…

In their bedroom, Sephiroth sat on a high backed chair next to the dresser, staring so hard at his sleeping wife he thought she might erupt into flames before him with his burning gaze. He'd spent hours wreaking havoc upon the different northern beasts outside. For all the blood he had shed, it was not enough to calm the tidal wave of emotions with him. He returned home near midnight wary of his own temper. And now here he was, conflicted and confused.

"Perhaps…I should have killed you…" he whispered in the dark as he listened to her steady breathing. "Perhaps I should have killed myself long ago…perhaps…I should just kill us both…"

An image of his wife coated in blood with the Masamune protruding from her back played over and over in his mind.

Aerith sighed in her sleep and shifted. The sheets tangled around her hips, pale slender legs exposed to the cool air. Mako eyes trailed across the line of flesh.

His hands clenched on his knees. He could feel the world around him spin in a haze, the blood in his veins racing faster.

Monster.

In his chest, his heart squeezed and he almost choked on his own breath.

Monster...

What would he do now that she knew about the horrors riddled in the dark? He was being haunted by his own insanity. He could feel a terrifying presence in the back of his mind, whispering and whispering until he wanted to crack his own skull. He was loosing his mind, day by day, the walls of sanity breaking and turning into dust. And soon, he was sure, it would be too late to change, to save him from this slow mental cancer.

He considered the thought of leaving her.

His chest tightened again and suddenly he felt nauseous. The very thought of leaving her made him physically sick. How would he be able to do it? Even after all the horrors he had done to her, every day his wife would still smile at him. Her brave face. That alone was almost enough to undo him.

Would it be merciful if he killed her himself? Is this how a madman consoles himself? He wondered.

Was this love?

He didn't know what love was. If this was love, then yes he loved her. But to say he loved her was insulting. Love was only a shade of what he felt for her. He watched her breathe, his eyes following the rise and fall of her chest knowing her heart was encased beneath all that glorious flesh and blood, beating and pumping life inside her. What bound them together went beyond love and hate, beyond obsession, beyond terror.

He could not leave her no matter how much he wanted to. Panic set in his bones at the realization. What was this? What is this? **What?**

Sephiroth wanted to kill her, maim, her, have her blood on his hands. He wanted to tear apart her vulnerability. He wanted to break her love that shone in those emerald eyes. He wanted her to absolve him of his sins.

He wanted to see her shy smile no matter how much of a bastard he was to her. To see her gasp and moan _Oh General_ even if there was fear in her eyes, even if she fought and kicked and clawed at him, even if one day she were to ever realize she should hate him instead of childishly loving him the way she was now. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her, to spread her and take her, to be with her until the universe exploded around them and there was no more life or death.

* * *

 _The hallway was dark._

 _The sound of heavy booted steps echoed in the hallway cast in exquisite marble architecture. The ceiling was incredibly high, towering and seemingly endless with intricate artistic designs he had never seen before. They were carved beautifully and expertly, mesmerizing his vision. Torches were lit dimly and he could make out large life size portraits that hung in rows along the either side of the walls._

 _The portraits depicted regal figures, some in fine armor and some in flowing robes._

 _Who were they?_

 _The heavy footsteps echoed louder and he turned around trying to make sense of which direction it was coming from._

 _It was then that he came face to face with another life sized portrait, the only one at this end of the hallway. The portrait by itself looked as if it had been excluded on purpose, away from the others. The frame was gilded with gold and was actually larger than the others.  
_

 _He leaned forward..._

 _...and his eyes widened in recognition._

 _What the hell was this?_

 _The silver winged woman._

 _She wielded a broad sword in her left hand, lifted high above her head. Long silver hair billowed behind her, thick strands caught in the wind. Her features were battle hungry; deep violet eyes narrowed, ruby red lips open in a soundless war cry. And behind her, large magnificent wings were spread out in full glory against a sky painted in red - the color of blood._

 _But the bodies.  
_

 _Beneath her, in dark depiction, were mutilated corpses._

 _Thousands of them. Maybe more. The brushstrokes were endless.  
_

 _When he tore his gaze from the massive death beneath her feet and looked back to the face stroked boldly by paint, he froze._

 _She was smiling, full lips set in a haunting tilt._

 _And she was looking right at him._

 ** _Betrayed._**

 _He felt breath stir the back of his hair, along his neck. His skin crawled._

 ** _Revenge._**

 _He heard the heavy footsteps again, but this time, it was right behind him._

Sephiroth awoke, in a cold sweat, heart beating frantically in his chest and ran to the bathroom where his breaths came out in great heaves and his body began to shake violently. He gripped the edge of the counter and caught a flash of his pale reflection in the mirror. And then all of a sudden he convulsed and gagged until he finally threw up, emptying his stomach completely.

He wiped his mouth, body still trembling and brought his unsteady hands to clutch his head.


	11. Prelude II

**Prelude II**

* * *

They had chained me.

Bound as I was I could not save her. I could not do anything for her that would take away the pain of death that was to be delivered upon her. I tried to remind myself that death was only the beginning. But could this belief be applied to her? She was something far beyond my comprehension, beyond the ignorance and arrogance of my people's understanding.

It was damp in my prison and growing dark with only a single torch lit. My arms were hung above my head, chained into the rock wall, which my back was pressed on. I was dirty, grimy and filthier than I had ever been in my entire life.

I, the daughter of Kertuth, High Elder of the Gu'erian Tor, was bound and chained like a common thief, like a _human_. I grit my teeth. My father, so looked upon by our people, was leading the execution that was taking place outside.

My people were vile sinners.

There was a loud boom of thunder from outside and then the furious sound of rainfall.

I am sinner as well. I had sinned a great sin. In my heart, my sin consumed me whole.

"Fools!" I cursed them in my prison. "You are all fools! You know not what you do!"

My voice echoed, bouncing off the walls. My guards did not move from their post. They paid no heed to my words.

My father did not want me present for the execution. I pulled helplessly at my chains. He did not want me to meddle with the proceedings, to stop the _demon_ from dying. He was was the High Elder, but not the Balaren of our people.

The Balaren was terrified of the creature that had fallen from the sky. The holy men who advised him declared war on the creature. They also proclaimed horrible omens that would befall on our people. The creature was to be put down, they had declared passionately. The Balaren had agreed.

The demon, the creature, the calamity - she would die.

I began to weep. If my hands were not bound I would have clawed at my face, torn off my skin and ripped out my hair in grief. I was grieving for the loss of her already. I grieved for the injustice of it all. It was like ash in my mouth.

I sobbed hysterically, banging against the rock walls. I wanted to draw my own blood.

"You cannot do this! This is a mistake!"

Thunder boomed again.

I shut my eyes tightly and remembered for an instant the one thing she wanted most.

 _"What is it that you wish for?"_

 _She paused in mid stride, silver hair billowing around her statuesque figure. The moonlight glinted off her armor exposing pale luminescent skin that shimmered like starlight._

 _"To go home."_

 _Her voice alone was something to behold. It was like nothing I had ever heard in my entire life._

But she would never go home now.

"We will pay for our sins!" I screamed at the blanked faced guards.

It was then and there, in my prison, having been chained and torn away from her, I vowed to myself that somehow, some way, I would make sure she would never be forgotten.

I clasped my hands in prayer.

The Cetra, my people, were doomed.


	12. Chapter VII

**PART TWO: SECERTS**

 **Chapter VII**

* * *

The bottom portion had been torn off.

A young man stood, his body visibly trembling, head bent towards an old parchment he carefully held in his right hand. He was dressed in a white lab coat with a blue shirt tucked into black pants. He was of average height, the lines of his body were rather delicate for a man and no matter how much he tried to gain weight to look "less delicate", he could not fight against genetics and the small bone structure he'd inherited from his mother's side of the family. Espresso brown hair was combed neatly to the side and a pair of thick rimmed glasses slid down a pointed nose. Thus, at twenty five years old, Rob Smith was the world's leading science prodigy. But at twenty-five years old, he was still frequently mistaken for a seventeen year old. His large brown eyes didn't help the age factor either.

But where was the rest of it?

Rob's brown eyes scanned the two-thousand-year old scroll again trying to desperately recover from shock. He tore his gaze from the dead language and looked at the woman who stood apprehensively in front of him. They stood in the newly built Shinra Laboratories where he was now its Head. He was the youngest scientist to have ever achieved such status so quickly.

"Mrs. Gainsborough, **where** did you get this?"

His mind felt like it was about to explode. What was written within the scroll went against everything Hojo and Gast ever theororized and wrote about. Everything their society accepted as modern world history!

Rufus and Zack were due any minute for this meeting and though he fought down the rising panic and excitement, he hoped they would get here quickly. Mrs. Gainsborough had _finally_ agreed to help their case. The old woman had proven difficult aiding them in their search for Aerith. She remained secretive and resistant to the Turks. She believed her daughter had gone of her own free will and not kidnapped as most assumed.

The older woman began to weep softly. "I'm just desperate to find Aerith! I can't stand it anymore! This was the last thing I could think of!"

Still trembling from the enormity of the scroll, he asked her again, **"** Mrs. Gainsborough _where_ did this scroll come from?"

* * *

A SOLDIER walked along the sidewalk aware of the many gazes that were turned his way - some in awe, some in fear, and some with stars in their eyes. He kept his own gaze trained straight ahead ignoring the whispers that he knew were so obviously about him. Children pointed his way, women fanned their flaming faces and men frowned and curled their lips in jealousy and grudging respect.

However, it was not only the imposing figure the SOLDIER cut that caused people to stop and stare, but also the huge sword strapped to his back.

A tug on his pants drew his attention downward.

"Are you a SOLDIER?"

A young boy stood barely to his hip, staring up at him adoringly.

A collective gasp was heard. SOLDIER was an elite group within Shinra's military and any member was a rare sight to see publicly. They remained a complete mystery to common citizens. Tales of heroism and glory trailed after them, especially when it concerned the most famous SOLDIER of all.

General Sephiroth.

But those were all stories passed between person to person, most of them having never even met the famous silver-haired man.

He blinked, blue eyes softening momentarily, and set a hand on the boy's dark locks, ruffling.

"Sure am," the SOLDIER said with an easy smile, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. A group of women nearby swooned.

The boy jumped up and down. "When I grow up, I want to be a SOLDIER too!"

If anyone had looked closer at the SOLDIER, _really_ looked at him, instead of ogling after his elite status and the famous crest on his uniform, they would have caught a particular look that passed over the SOLDER's face like a shadow.

"Why do you want to join SOLDIER, kiddo?"

The boy puffed up his little chest, flexed thin arms and declared proudly. "Because I want to be a hero!"

His mind reeled and painful nostalgia.

 _Lazard leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms over the impeccable pinstriped blue suit he wore._

 _"By the way...what is your dream?" The blond man asked. "To become 1st...is it?"_

 _Bracing his hands on his hips and straightening his posture, he told Lazard his SOLDIER's dream._

 _"To be a hero!"_

Caught off guard by the kid's haunting declaration, the black haired SOLDIER turned back to the child, crouching low so they were eye level.

When had his dream turned into a nightmare?

He lost all youthful exuberance and energy for SOLDIER when Angeal died before his eyes. But, perhaps, the worst of all was his encounter with Sephiroth and Genesis at the mako reactor in Nibelheim - before the General set the reactor in flames nearly burning the town asunder.

"Listen kid," he whispered quietly, appearing to be telling the child a secret. The semi-crowd along the sidewalk strained to hear. "You don't want to be in SOLDIER, buddy. You want to be a doctor or a teacher - those a worthy dreams," the child looked at him, eye-to-eye, absorbing the man's words. "Those are honorable dreams."

Sparing the kid a knowing grin, Zack Fair, SOLDIER 1st Class, turned away and made his way past the throng of people that had gathered watching the mysterious SOLDIER who left the young boy to ponder about dreams and honor.

He rounded the corner and arrived at his destination. Pushing the wooden doors open, creaking in distress, he entered the only church in Midgar. Pausing, he inhaled the familiar smell of flowers, letting the scent wash over him.

It brought little comfort.

"Aerith where are you?" He spoke out loud as though saying her name would bring even a chance glimpse of her.

How was it that the whole of Shinra and its resources could not find one small slip of a girl? She disappeared into thin air and he often wondered, as the days passed, if she hadn't just been a figment of his imagination. He deluded himself in that thought knowing she had been entirely real because her existence impacted not only his life but many others who were still frantically searching for her. No matter how hard they searched, how many ridiculous leads they followed, none of them lead to her. Thousands called in everyday claiming they'd seen the missing girl, but most of those claims were fraudulent due to the huge reward amount.

He didn't care that in the month before she disappeared that she constantly rejected his affections and told him to stay away. He knew, deep inside that she was lying to him. More importantly, his gut told him she was hiding something from him. Those emerald eyes couldn't tell a lie to save her soul. Her open and honest personality was her undoing and not only that - every time he confronted her about their relationship there was fear in her eyes.

He clenched his jaw, the aching tension within him perpetually unrelieved. It also didn't help that the last memory he had of her was not a pleasant one.

There was no closure and though the crack in his heart was left unresolved, he was determined the find her. He would not let go of her and if it took his entire life to find Aerith he would do so.

He looked around the empty church, beams of light straying through the stained glass windows. The benches were cracked and broken, wooden floors splintered. Approaching the flowerbed, he bent on one knee and tenderly traced a calloused finger against a pink petal. The aching pit in his heart was driving him crazy. He looked down at the lonely beauty the flowers cast over the crumbling church.

A beeping noise came out of his pocket. Retrieving his cell phone, he flipped it open and answered.

"Zack here."

The voice on the other end belonged to the new President Shinra.

"Zack," Rufus began, his tone clipped and cautious on the other line. "Mrs. Gainsborough is with Rob."

" _What?_ "

"Rob has Mrs. Gainsborough in his lab," the blond on the other line repeated. "She says she's got something that could lead us to Aerith."

He didn't waste another second.

"See you in ten."

* * *

When he arrived at the laboratory Rufus was already there. Entering the rebuilt lab brought little comfort to the years he spent being poked and prodded by Hojo in the old lab. He'd hated that bastard.

"Hello Mrs. Gainsborough," Zack stretched out his hand, eyes meeting the adoptive mother of the woman he loved.

He was surprised when she actually took it, shaking it once. "It's nice to see you again Zack."

In the past, she had been very hostile towards him, making it known to both he and her daughter that she did not approve of their relationship.

But it was different now.

Time changed people.

Grief changed people.

Clearing his throat, he nodded to Rob and Rufus.

"Rob, tell us what you've got." Rufus said, leaning back on a lab counter, gaze intent.

Zack observed Rob Smith for a moment. The young man didn't seem calm at all. In fact, he looked spooked.

"Before I even begin to explain this phenomenon, I think Mrs. Gainsborough should start her story first." Rob nodded towards Elmyra who fiddled with her hands nervously. It was a similar habit that Aerith had when she was nervous.

"I...I...will start at the very beginning, I suppose." Elmyra inhaled slowly before she began. "When Aerith was entrusted to me by her birth mother, she left something in my care."

"From Dr. Gast's recordings and our own files, we are aware of the white materia Ifalna passed on to her," Rufus interrupted, crossing his arms.

"I know that. Believe me, I'm well aware you've got every bit of history on Aerith's short existence in some folder," Elmyra snapped. "I'm talking about something else...there something no one knew about." She swallowed and then continued. "Yes, Ifalna left the white materia to Aerith and I gave it to her when she was a little girl because I believed she should have something that she knew was specifically from her birth mother. However," she motioned in Rob's direction. "Ifalna left a second item for her."

Rob held up a fragile piece of parchment carefully for Zack and Rufus to see.

"The scroll is extremely delicate so no one other than myself should handle this artifact." Rob told both men as Rufus approached him, bending to look at the scroll.

With Zack's enhanced mako eyesight he saw the intricate symbols and the Ancient emblem. He remembered the symbol from history books. Keeping his eyes on the scroll, he directed his question to Elmyra, "Why are you showing this to us now? How does this contribute to the search for Aerith?"

"I don't know if it will necessarily help…but…this is the last and only piece of information I have to contribute," Elmyra stifled a sob. "Also...Aerith…she never knew about it. I never gave it to her."

"Why didn't you give it to her?" Rufus turned to look at her.

"To be honest, I was absolutely terrified of it. I…I didn't know what was in the message…I was afraid whatever was in it would take Aerith away from me."

"That was not your decision to make," Rufus told her bluntly, ignoring the woman's tearful expression. "And you lost your daughter anyway."

"Maybe it wasn't my decision…but I can tell you that after Dr. Smith explained the contents of the scroll, I believe I was right to withhold it from her," Elmyra shot back, wiping her eyes. "I'm at my wits end, I have nothing left…this is it. I'm not certain if her disappearance has anything to do with the message…But I needed to try, even if it's too late."

"What did Ifalna say about the scroll?" Zack asked her despite the mounting frustration he kept at bay. "Did she tell you what it was?"

"No...she died before that." Eyes downcast, Elmyra clenched her hands until her knuckles turned white.

"Why are you so afraid of this? What makes you think this piece of paper could affect Aerith in such a dramatic way?" Rufus demanded.

"When Ifalna handed me the scroll, it felt like an electric shock ran through my body…I…I felt," Elmyra grasped for the right words. "I felt highly disturbed. I was afraid!"

Rufus shook his head. "That doesn't excuse the fact that you withheld this information knowing your daughter has been missing for over a year - _almost two_."

A tense silence followed.

"She had every right to be afraid of this scroll. Personally...I'm terrified." Rob's comment turned all eyes his way.

"Why?" Zack asked the other man apprehensively. "What does it say?"

The scientist swallowed nervously, turning away from them to grab a glass of water.

"Rob, have you translated that scroll?" Rufus eyed the way the man's arms trembled slightly as he lifted the glass to drink.

"If I were a religious man, I'd tell you that you wouldn't even begin to imagine the blasphemy written in this scroll," Rob said as he set down the glass. "But I'm not religious in the least. I'm a scientist. And what this scroll documents is both incredibly and terrifying. So I guess I can agree with Mrs. Gainsborough for trusting her instincts. We are, after all, only human."

Rob glanced back and forth from Rufus and Zack. "The scroll basically defies Ancient history as modern history knows it. It goes against all the theories of Hojo and Gast and their predecessors, contradicting years of research and documentation regarding a certain highly classified project on the alien known known as The Jenova Project. You both know the nature of that project."

Zack inhaled sharply, shocked. "What?"

"How...is that possible?" Rufus asked quietly, stunned.

Rob laid the old parchment on the lab counter beside him. "It was difficult to translate, but this is what the scroll basically says..."

 _I, Lunaren, the last Cetran Priestess, am dying._

 _That I shall succumb to eternal slumber does not strike fear in my heart. In truth, it brings me the comfort that I have so longed for._

 _I write this as my final testament. I write this to make history clear. I write this to pay tribute to a dear friend._

 _Out of the millions of Cetrans that lived harmoniously on Gaia, there are only but a few hundred of us left. We live in the mountains like renegades, hiding from the ever-expanding human colonies in the valleys below. Our home is hidden by an enchantment. We have lived in our hiding place since The Fall - the great destruction of my people. The deadly disease that spread amongst us rapidly. My people had never knew sickness until then. We had were been physical ill in such a way that it caused a horrible death. We had lived in peace with nature and spoke to Gaia. We were the Divine Ones, the Loved Ones, Gaia's Children._

 _But we sinned a great sin and were brought low. The price of our sin demanded payment. One that we have yet to fully pay._

 _While it has been centuries since The Fall, I can see where the pieces of history are falling. I have heard the rumblings of the humans over the 'Calamity that Fell from the Skies". An old witch's tale, the humans claim. A story. An old myth. An event that had never happened, just as the humans believe we Cetrans are nothing but mythical creatures living in the forest, spending our live inside the trees. Some even claim we are so small they can capture us within their hands._

 _Oh, that history should be re-written and corrected. Oh, that my people should not have succumbed to sin. For I know that is what history shall claim – that_ _ **she**_ _was the Great Deceiver – my people blamed her for their demise. And when they all lay dying in their filth, they cursed her most foul. I knew they did not understand why even after they had rid her like the pestilence they believed she was that they should still perish in the end._

 _I feel no remorse for the Balaren and the Elders so consumed with their lust for power and control, including my own father. Their misguided arrogance and understanding of creation was the result of our doom._

 _Therefore I put my faith in her final words, that a_ _ **prophecy**_ _shall be fulfilled when the last star falls._

 _I shall make it clear, once and for all, that she was, indeed, not of Gaia. She fell from the heavens like an angel. I know this account to be true, for it was I who found her and witnessed her great descent - -_

"That's where it ends," Rob said abruptly. "The scroll is torn after this part so the rest remains a mystery."

"What the hell does this mean?" Rufus asked, disturbed.

"It...well...if Lunaren's words are true...this could mean that Jenova...was _not_ the enemy. In fact, this actually indicates that Jenova was wrongly convicted. Those who were involved in The Jenova Project said that she was an alien being who landed on the planet with the sole purpose of destroying the Ancients. At least that's what's documented in the files from what the Ancients _claimed_ in their history." Rob explained. "So, like I said, this scroll contradicts everything we know about the Ancients."

"There must be more proof to this though," Rufus said. "How do we even know if it's true? For all we know this could be the ravings of a madwoman over a thousand years ago. Where do we even begin to investigate this? With all our resources and technology, and the archaeologist throughout this planet's evolving years, why has no one _ever_ found a scrap of evidence that indicated Jenova was _not_ the enemy?"

But Zack was no longer listening, because he was suddenly lost in a brief memory.

 _"My mother's name is Jenova."_ _Sephiroth said as they stood in front of the entrance to the Nibelheim mansion. "She died shortly after I was born."_

 _In the Nibelheim reactor, the name appeared again…_

 _"Jenova was excavated from a 2,000 year old rock layer." Amidst the pain, Zack heard Genesis carelessly reveal the origins of Sephiroth - who stood as still as a statue._

 _"She's a monster."_

He snapped back to reality when he heard Rob's next comment.

"W-what...did you just say?" He felt dizzy, his mind going back and forth between the past and the shocking present.

"I'm saying that _if this is true_ that...that..." Rob paused and looked down at the scroll.

"What?" Zack insisted.

"That...Jenova was something else entirely."


	13. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII**

* * *

"How the hell is Aerith connected to any of this?" Zack turned to Rob who was nervously smoothing out the scroll. The scientist was obviously preoccupied. Frustrated, he glared in Rufus's direction. "You told me this was a lead on Aerith's case. This turns out to be a meeting about a damn piece of paper?"

"This is not just a _piece of paper_!" Rob exclaimed. "This is _proof_! Actual _proof_ of the connection between Jenova and the Cetra! Not just theories about Jenova - -"

"I heard you the first time," Zack snapped, impatient. "I'm sick and tired of leads that go nowhere so I'm asking again - how the hell is Aerith connected to that damn paper?"

Rob sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Honestly Zack I...I don't know yet...I still have to begin decoding - "

Zack turned away in exasperation.

"Rob, I'm leaving this to you," Rufus said. "Find out if that claim on Jenova is true, go to any depths. I don't care what you do - _just do it_."

Rob swallowed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I'll put all my current projects on hold as of right now and focus all my energy on this."

"Don't take it personal," Rufus told the scientist while looking at Zack's frustrated expression.

Zack turned to Elmyra. "Mrs. Gainsborough you said this paper would help us find Aerith. Are you prepared to accept the possibility that it might not? It could just open up more paper pushing and research funding for Shinra instead. The possibilities are endless right now."

"I never said this was going to lead us to Aerith." Elmyra visibly flinched at Zack's accusing tone. "But...I'm certain that scroll has something to do _with_ Aerith. I may have been foolish for keeping it to myself all these years but...but it's in fate's hands now. Whether it turns out to be a positive or a negative thing, I don't know, " Her voice wavered. "I won't live in fear of what I don't understand."

"Elmyra, we have to also be realistic," Rufus crossed his arms. "For all we know Aerith may be dead. Most missing cases are declared dead a hell of a lot earlier than this."

"She's not dead!" Elmyra trembled. "She is _not_ dead."

None of the men commented, none of them wanted to.

Rufus looked at his watch. "I have a meeting with the new Head of Weapons Development in a few minutes so I have to get going."

Elmyra gathered her purse and jacket. "I have to go as well...I need to rest. It's been a long day."

"I can have you escorted home, Mrs. Gainsborough," Rufus offered.

But Elmyra shook her head. "That's alright. I can make my own way."

"As you wish."

Elmyra gave a tremulous smile and walked out of the lab, briefly meeting Zack's gaze before the doors shut behind her.

"Let's all meet again once Rob collects enough data to present any kind of revelation," Rufus announced then. "In the meanwhile, I'll conduct my own research and I'm sure Zack will do his own investigating as well."

"Trust me when I say I will do everything in my knowledge to put this figure this out," Rob said earnestly, determined to unravel the puzzle before him.

But Zack was staring at the lab doors, his expression unreadable.

"What's wrong?" Rufus glanced at his watch again.

"She's right you know," Zack said. "Aerith is alive. If I believed for even a second that she was dead, I wouldn't still be looking for her."

Rufus averted his eyes, skeptic as ever, while Rob looked sympathetically at Zack. The blond tapped his watch. "As head of the company I'm going to risk a couple of minutes," he glanced at Rob. "And there was something I needed to speak to Rob about privately."

Zack nodded. "Call me when you have more information."

Once Zack left, Rufus raised an eyebrow in Rob's direction. "There's something you're not telling me."

Rob smiled thinly. "I have a sick feeling in my stomach to be completely honest. But I stand by what I said earlier." Rob's eyes traced over Lunaren's words again before glancing up.

"I'm terrified."

"You seemed really excited earlier though," Rufus said nonchalantly. "I thought you were about to pass out."

Rob let out a rather uncharacteristic snort. "When Mrs. Gainsborough first came in and showed me the scroll, believe me, I nearly did." His expression sobered suddenly, jaw clenched. "I've got a hunch though. Give me a few weeks to put it together."

Rufus paused before consenting. "Alright."

After Rufus left the laboratory Rob locked the doors. He approached the scroll on the counter as if it beckoned to him. As he reached for it, he noticed his hand was still shaking.

"Jenova was the great calamity the Ancients wrote about. She was a destroyer of worlds, a humanoid-like virus that almost wiped them out in her quest for world domination." He mused out loud. "But...if she wasn't any of those things?"

* * *

The bar was loud with booming boisterous voices that laughed heartily as more heads tipped back in cheers and swallows. Many of the men were already staggering unsteadily, pawing at a waitress here and there. In a darkened corner, there was a female sigh followed by a male moan. There was the sound of beer glasses crashing onto the floor and the flipping of chairs as a challenge sounded from one intoxicated man to another.

Amidst the ruckus of the drunkards Zack sat on a high stool at the bar, azure eyes staring into his now empty mug. He'd forgotten his gloves and sword back at the barracks - not that he needed them anyway. His body was a weapon itself, built by SOLDIER. He was lethal either way.

However lethal he was, he'd needed a drink the moment he left Rob's lab.

"Hey there handsome," a feminine voice crooned in his ear. He felt a soft hand slide up his bicep. "What'cha doin' sittin' all by your lonesome self?"

He ground his teeth and turned, meeting a pair of intoxicated brown eyes. "Sweetheart, sometimes a man just likes to drink on his own, you know what I mean?"

But the woman obviously didn't see his polite indifferent face and decided to deposit herself right on his lap. "Oh, darlin', men like you aren't meant to be alone," she purred, batting thick eyelashes. She ground her bottom against his lap. Her short red dress couldn't ride up any higher to save her. "If _you_ know what _I_ mean?"

Zack let his eyes size her up, running over her coke bottle form and attractive face with lustrous honey colored hair. She looked no older than him.

"You sure know how to get a man's attention," his eyes lingered on her generous bust almost spilling out of her dress.

He suddenly found himself considering what she was so blatantly offering.

Being a SOLDIER, women came and went like a three ring circus. There was not a man who was enlisted in the Shinra Army or a man who was part of SOLDIER that did not have women throwing their willing bodies at them. He was no better than the rest of the men when he first joined. It had been like a flesh buffet.

And who was he kidding anyway? How long could he hold out on himself?

It was every time Aerith's face came to his mind that he found himself holding back.

His jaw clenched tightly.

"You still with me, sugar?" He felt her hand take his and place it on the large swell of her breast.

A vein on the side of his temple was about to pop.

He breathed deeply.

"I see how it is," she ran a hand through his hair and he suppressed a shudder. "You got a sweetheart back home or somethin'?"

Zack motioned for the bartender to fill his mug and reluctantly dropped his hand from her chest. "Something like that."

The woman raised an elegant brow. "Oh? So it's one sided then?"

He tipped his head back, swallowing the comforting taste of beer and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, fixing his eyes on her. "That's really none of your business."

She hopped off his lap and he was almost regretful for it. "So you're one of those cases then."

He was getting fairly drunk from the alcohol but he asked her anyway, "What is that supposed to mean?"

The red dress shrugged, breasts bobbing with the action. "Ya know, you're mooning after someone who is probably fucking someone else."

He tensed, pupils dilating. "What did you just say?"

But she wasn't paying any attention as she adjusted her dress in a futile attempt to look proper. "I'm just sayin' that while you're here lookin' all depressed she's probably fucking some other man."

He stood up so fast, she never even saw him move. He towered over her, reeking of alcohol and anger.

Rage built inside him and with his mind in an alcoholic haze, pressure mounting and -

\- a young man came in between him and the honey haired women.

"Excuse me, ma'am, please excuse me and my friend here," the blond teenager put a hand against Zack's uniformed chest. "We gotta head back to the barracks."

The drunk woman's eyes lit up, assessing the new piece of man flesh in front of her. "My, my, I didn't know you were both SOLDIERS."

The youth smiled stiffly. "Actually _he's_ the SOLDIER," blue eyes glanced backward. "I'm just a trooper."

And before the woman could reply, Cloud Strife led his Commanding Officer out of the noisy bar and away from predatory females.

* * *

"Another letter from Tifa?"

The seventeen year old blushed. "Yeah, she's asking me if she can visit."

Zack plopped down heavily on the chair next to him. "You okay with that?"

The blond hesitated and shoved the creased letter back into its envelope. "She's never been outside of Nibelheim and I'd be pretty worried if she came out here, you know, to the big city and all..."

His commander laughed heartily. "You can be sure the hounds here at the barracks will be nipping at her feet the moment they catch a wiff of her."

"In that case, I guess I'll tell her to stay at home," Cloud mumbled and cast Zack an annoyed glance.

"Aw, c'mon man, I was just pulling your leg," Zack leaned back on the chair and shut his eyes. "It would be nice to see Tifa, I mean, you obviously miss her and she was a really helpful guide before...before everything..."

Cloud caught Zack's trail-off. "Before the fire?"

Zack blinked. "Actually I was going to say something else."

The youth cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry...I-uh...didn't..."

"Nah, don't worry about it," Zack dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, you should tell Tifa to come visit so you can give her the grand tour of the city yourself."

"Sure I think I'll do that...but I'll go with my gut instinct and keep her away from the barracks. Put her up in a proper hotel."

When Zack didn't respond, Cloud turned to see the older man staring vacantly at the wall.

Cloud knew as much as Zack would tell him about what happened in Nibelheim. He'd been on very same mission to his hometown with Zack and General Sephiroth. Standing a few feet from his childhood idol had been dream come true for the then fifteen-year-old Cloud.

But Cloud soon discovered that holding on dreams while serving Shinra never usually turned out well for anyone.

When the horrible events inside the mako reactor unfolded in Nibelheim, what had Cloud been doing? Napping. Completely unaware. _Completely useless._ He remembered standing outside with Tifa watching the fire burn the edge of town. Their reaction, _his_ reaction, had been too late.

At seventeen and still a trooper, Cloud was painfully aware that he was far behind the legends that made Shinra military, especially their elite SOLDIER program. Not only that, he never admitted to Tifa that he'd actually failed the SOLDIER entrance exams.

Cloud fought the urge to tear something apart and instead focused on Zack. "Are you okay?"

Azure eyes opened slowly. "Yeah...just...just thinking about current events and it's making me exhausted."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

The black haired SOLDIER smiled ruefully, "Nah man, I think you've heard enough sob stories from me to last you for a lifetime."

"It's really okay," Cloud insisted.

"Sometimes...it's really difficult," Zack began slowly. "I feel like my head is going to explode just thinking about Aerith and it's so damn hard not _knowing_ what the fuck happened to her. It's like - one day she was there and the next - gone. Taken."

"I know we've been over this a thousand times already but what if she wasn't taken? What if she ran away?"

Zack sighed. "It's definitely difficult to even entertain the thought of her running away because then I'm back to ground zero and stuck with the question of - _why_? It doesn't make sense."

"None of it makes sense." Cloud countered.

"I can tell you one thing though. Aerith's mom brought something into Rob's lab today. She told us it's supposed help us find Aerith. I'm not sure though."

"What is it?"

Zack shook his head. "Something Rob appears to suddenly become obsessed with. And something I'm doubtful will do anything. In fact I think it'll just be more paper pushing for the research department."

Cloud nodded and realized why Zack had been drunk and angry at the bar from the night before. "So that explains why you were wasted." He glanced sideways. "I've never seen you hungover until last night."

"One of the benefits of mako running in your veins, my friend," Zack grinned. "It takes a lot of alcohol to bring on a buzz. And to actually get drunk? Shit. I'm pretty sure I drank that bar dry."

"So what did Aerith's mom bring?"

Zack pressed his lips together before answer. "It was a piece of paper. A piece of fucking paper."

"What?"

"It's actually a scroll, according to good ol' Rob..."

Cloud noted the disturbed expression on Zack's face. "What's wrong?"

"Rob translated it and it was saying something about...Jenova."

"Wasn't that the name engraved on a door in the reactor?"

"You see this is where it gets even crazier." A humorless chuckle escaped Zack. "After things went sour at Nibelheim and Sephiroth disappeared, Rufus and I read all the confidential 'top-secret' files buried in Hojo's lab. This was right after we President Shinra's funeral, before we tossed Hojo's body in the crematorium." Outside Cloud's door, the sound of military boots ran past and when the sound disappeared Zack continued. "You never met Hojo, so you're one of the lucky ones. Really lucky. I know you're not thinking too highly of yourself because you didn't pass the candidacy entrance exam for SOLDIER, but thank the gods you didn't when you first got here. That sick fucker would have ripped you open and stuffed all kinds of shit inside you."

There was grief in Zack's tone and Cloud immediately knew he was thinking of Angeal.

"What did you find in Hojo's files?"

Zack cleared his throat. "Rufus and I went through all of it, and I mean _all of it_. There's a lot I can't tell you, so I won't even go there. But man, you wouldn't believe what kind of horrible things that were documented in there, secret experiments, mutation and cellular manipulation. Disgusting." He tilted his head upward and looked at the ceiling, azure eyes dim. "There were enough horror stories in there to scare you to an early grave. To be completely honest, Jenova is a subject I'm technically not allowed to talk about. So take this as a direct order from your CO - don't ever repeat anything I tell you."

"Yes sir."

So Cloud listened to the rest of Zack's story and was horrified to learn that yes, he had been incredibly lucky to escape Hojo's clutches. Or else, who knows what might have happened?


	14. Prelude III

**Prelude III**

* * *

A large crater took place where soft green grass had once been.

The impact upon the soil had been immensely powerful. Could there be such power, such strength, to destroy rock and split it into two? I was collecting flowers for the festival when a flash of blinding light, fire and lightning erupted! What was happening? Putting aside my fear, I ran towards the explosion.

"Oh Gaia," I pressed my palms together in prayer.

I climbed down carefully, sliding over the debris of dirt and rocks. My white robes tore and by the time I reached the bottom I was sure I looked a fright. Father would not be pleased. Dusting myself off, I waved my hands around, filtering through the smoky air.

I had always been curious. Perhaps to curious. My people thought me a different, _peculiar_ , not at all worthy of the being the daughter of an Elder, much less the High Elder.

Then, suddenly, the fog-like smoke parted...

...and I saw her.

I rushed forward, nearly tripping over my torn robes.

There was no mistaking the feminine silhouette beneath such strange hard looking garments. When the smoke cleared I was relieved to see the woman bore no wounds as she lay peacefully still. And the hair! By Gaia, the hair! Never in my life had I seen such thick silver hair! The creature's skin was incredibly pale and luminescent.

But it was not only the beautiful hair and star dusted skin that amazed me.

It was the silver wings that were folded in an arch beneath her.

 _Wings!_

I leaned forward looking at the symbols engraved upon her. My eyes turned to her face and my mouth parted in shock. I had never seen anyone as perfectly beautiful as she. I could not help but stare in awe. She was perfect even with her eyes shut in slumber, pale lashes so long I marveled at them.

A sense of foreboding came over me and it was amidst my shock that I questioned the obvious.

Where had she come from?

I looked up at the clear sky and wondered.


	15. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX**

* * *

He was dreaming of her again.

 _She had the softest skin._

 _"Zack…"_

 _He captured her lips, swallowed her sighs and ran his tongue along her bottom lip._

 _"Aerith…"_

 _Soft limbs tangled around him._

Zack awoke to a fierce erection and a foul mood.

His relationship with Aerith had never entered the sexual domain. He had treasured her like a rare flower. He wanted to bask in her innocence and adore her before they went any further. He supposed, in that sense, he was old fashion. And while he had tried to keep his relationship with her physically pure, he'd struggled to reign in his desire for her. What would it be like to touch the soft, white skin around her neck, the curling edge of her dainty ear? To bury his hands in her thick luxurious hair...

In her absence, he dreamed of how he would take her, how their first time could have been. He dreamed of her above him, below him, around him.

His entire body throbbed at the thought and memory of her.

They kissed once. The day before he left for Nibelheim. It was a chaste quick kiss, hasty and last minute. When he pulled away her face was bright red. He had stared in fascination. Girls these days, he had discovered, almost _never_ blushed. In Midgar, innocence like hers was almost unheard of.

That memory sustained and reigned in his lust. He was fiercer and harder on the troopers and new recruits. The physical exertion helped. Zack was determined. When they found her – _and they would_ – he would marry her.

But no matter how many times he repeated those words in his head, he still felt hollow inside.

* * *

After Rufus conducted heavy corporate cleaning throughout the company, Shinra's Space Program appointed a new manager - Lily York.

At forty-three years old, she was still a very attractive woman. Best described as "willowy" for her long limbs and curvy figure, she could have been a super model in her younger days if she'd pursued such a career. As it turned out, Lily was far too smart and conservative to use her looks as a means for income. Instead, she attended the prestigious Midgar Science Academy and excelled in her studies eventually landing a job as an astronomy professor in Junon University.

Taking over Shinra's Space Program proved much easier than she previously imagined due to the fact that the entire staff was brand new as well. She did not question Rufus about the new staff; she knew Shinra's young President was tackling the aftermath of his late father's corruption.

On a Friday night after working well past her normal shift, she tied her long raven hair in a knot and reached for the raincoat hanging on a coat rack. Dark circles shadowed her grey eyes. She was exhausted.

"Lily?"

She really wanted to go home to her cozy condo with its plush carpet. Her cat, Stella, was most likely waiting impatiently for her owner to come home.

"Yes?"

"We have a situation at the front."

She'd been so tired she hadn't even heard Darren open her office door. Focused on tying the belt on her raincoat, she didn't bother looking up. After smoothing her hands on along the lines of her coat, she looked at the Atmospheric Supervisor of the Space Program with tired, wary eyes.

"Darren, I've already worked twelve bloody hours today. My cat is probably dying without me."

But the tall thirty something Darren only looked at her with sympathetic hazel eyes under a fringe of dark blond hair.

"I know, I know. We all need a break, but something's popped up and I think you should take a look."

Sighing, she undid the pretty knot she'd just tied and shrugged out of her coat. "Oh all right."

"Give me a few minutes; I need to change back into that monkey suit." Lily grumbled, throwing her coat on the desk.

Darren chuckled. "I'm really sorry for stopping you but it had to be done."

As she walked out of her office with Darren, they headed towards the entrance's inspection unit. Company regulations stated that only employees and senior executives with high clearance could enter the Space Building. The annoying bit was that everyone in the Space Program was required to wear a uniform with special ID tags every time they had to enter. One had to go through various security measures to actually get inside the Space Building.

"Is it really worth depriving me of much needed sleep?" Lily grumbled.

"You'll see."

* * *

In his apartment Robert stressed over the notes he'd written on piles of paper.

A **question** chanted over and over, driving him, pushing his mind to a place he never thought he'd go to.

And yet, here he was, over six weeks later and no closer to the hunch he'd had from the very beginning.

His apartment's living space was large and luxurious. What many people did not know was that Robert was _rich_. He owned the top floor of the high-rise luxury apartment building. To the surprise of many, the unassuming science geek was the son of one of Midgar's highest-ranking politicians. His father had been a friend of the late President Shinra and, in turn, their sons became best friends as a result of that connection. Robert and Rufus played together as children and were both sent to the same boarding school. It was not a surprise to them, or their parents, that Robert would be under the employ of Rufus just as their power hungry fathers who had one commonality – greed.

Their sons, however, had one commonality – to not become like their fathers.

Robert exhaled loudly and tossed his glasses to the side, eyes burning from reading. He'd been staring at his notes for hours.

"This is screwed up," he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair.

The fact of the matter was, since Elmyra showed him the Ancient scroll, he'd gotten nowhere. He stood at the end of a tunnel that seemed to have no light at the end of it.

His lab assistants and researchers were overworked. He knew he needed to give them a much-deserved break. His team was also working with the Turks who were sent out to do the physical "dirty work" of the investigation. Rufus declared a new faction within the main investigation. They were only to answer to Rufus, Robert or Zack directly; depending on which department they came from. Out of the fifty seven hand picked loyal employees they'd chosen within the Corporate, Science and Military & SOLDIER Departments, there was still no viable lead that was connected to the claims inside the scroll.

"Who are you?" he thought of Lunaren and her secrets, the scroll, and let himself imagine what she may have looked like. Did she look like the missing half-Ancient - Aerith? The files they had on Aerith Gainsborough, daughter of the last full-blooded Ancient, Ifalna and lover of Dr. Gast Faremis was absolutely enormous. A courtesy of Hojo's relentless obsession with the Ancients.

Robert thought of Aerith's biological parents. Theirs did not have a happy ending.

Gast and Ifalna fell in love, Ifalna became pregnant and Aerith was born. Eventually Hojo demanded Ifalna and Aerith be taken to Shinra for experimentation purposes and when Gast disagreed, he is shot to death by Hojo. From recounts and reports, witnesses say the subject Ifalna used "Ancient magic" to mentally manipulate the men sent by Hojo thus successfully escaping with Aerith. She travelled as far as Midgar where, having been mortally wounded in her escape, she hands over baby Aerith to a woman named Elmyra Gainsborough.

Throughout Aerith's life Shinra monitored her closely. Hojo had decided not to pursue the girl, suddenly in favor of observing her under a microscope and a short leash using all the resources Shinra could provide - which was plenty. Over thousands upon thousands surveillance documentation and analytical documents covered Aerith's life.

However, Hojo's fixation with the Ancients was nothing compared to his ultimate obsession - Jenova.

Robert pushed away from his desk and stood up, stretching, thinking.

The investigative and research teams came up with nothing. Rufus sent them scouring across the globe in the weeks that seemed to pass in a blink of an eye. There were no myths, legends or any type of old wives tale regarding Jenova. In today's modern society, history tells that a deadly disease had destroyed the Ancient race who were akin to mythical creatures. A fable. Just a story. Some people believed they existed and some people believed they did not.

Moreover, no one could locate the missing half of the scroll yet.

And still, the **question** burned in his mind.

He was sure something was missing. His intuition told him that the Ancients had hidden important information away - like a dirty secret. Because, if Lunaren's claims were true, the very foundation of the planet's history would crack, causing a great tumble of fact or fiction.

Tossing the folder on his desk, he rummaged through various file folders until finally lifting one out. Opening it, he sifted through its contents and brought a photograph close to his face. He squinted.

Several wires and cords connected to the body inside the tank. Though the skin was bluish there was no mistaking the silver hair and vacant violet eyes. Having been buried deep in the earth for thousands of years, her flesh had decayed slowly while her body appeared mangled and brutalized. He knew from Hojo's reports she had been amazingly preserved though it was obvious in the photo some of her limbs were missing. Behind her were broken wings, or at least, what appeared to be decayed wings that looked like another organism growing outside her body. The hairs on his neck rose, suddenly feeling disturbed by the photo. It looked as if she had gone through an insurmountable amount of torture.

He was struck by sudden nausea; the photo fell from his fingers and onto the desk.

"What happened to her?"

More unanswered questions.

He could only speculate who inflicted such wounds on her body. Hojo and his team would have been the ones to insert the cords and put her corpse in the tank. Was Hojo insane enough to open a dead body and toy with its insides?

Had it been the Ancients? Were they capable of doing such a thing? From grade school, he'd been taught to think of them like fairies granting wishes or magical, beautiful creatures who brought love and happiness.

Or was it someone else?

He stayed up and finally fell asleep after four o'clock in the morning.

But when he awoke hours later, the **question** came to him again.

* * *

Garvene Jupthal, the last of the Tskukuko Clan, was ninety-four years old. His memory was still strong and the accuracy in detail of the tale he just told was incredible. But Garvene was old, his body wrinkled and stooped. He wore an old tattered robe and smelled foul and was nearly skin and bones. Despite his great age and withering body, Garvene was happy at this moment and most of all - _thankful_.

The Tskukoko Clan were known in history books as a mysterious clan that worshiped an anonymous goddess. The name of the particular goddess, however, was never written or noted in history and the clan itself was extremely secretive. Unfortunately they were never noted for anything other than they lived and prospered and then separated and became scarce.

In the current modern age, hardly anyone knew of the people of the Tskukuko anymore. Time had eroded their story in history. In fact, the man Garvene was speaking to had taken great lengths in searching for the last survivor of a clan long forgotten. There were no more of his people. Just one old man left.

"What happened to the priestess?" A young man sat across from him, his Tsukukan words coming out mangled by his common accent. Dressed in heavy red armor with a broad sword strapped to his back, the young man seemed to glow like red fire.

Garvene sighed and stoked the fire. They sat in a cave that smelled like a nest of raccoons.

"She died shortly afterwards. It was expected…she was very old for her kind. Probably well over two hundred years old by the time she passed away," Garvene murmured sadly. "It has been said that she was incredibly beautiful and the clan leader then, Merrick, fell madly in love with her."

"But didn't you just say she was an old woman?"

"Oh yes, she was old," Garvene's grey eyes twinkled. "But she did not look it. You see…the Ryjki did not age like humans."

"Interesting." The man bent his head, blood red hair curling around the edge of his jaw.

"Indeed it is. Tsusha the Great Mother surely favored them during their time." Garvene grunted. "Although, in this day and age, I suppose one could say that the Ryjki were an elitist race...towards their end."

The man's eyes widened. "Really…that does put a whole new perspective on things…"

Garvene nodded. "We all knew what happened to the Ryjki. During the peak of their power, all of a sudden, a fatal epidemic spread among them. It was said by the common folk that a _beast_ destroyed them, spread the disease."

"And why would this…said beast…do such a thing?"

Garvene shook his head. "We do not know. This is what has been told and passed down through generations."

"Why did the priestess ask for the aid of the your people?"

The old man's expression changed. "Because…when she approached the borders of our land, carrying her message, she declared that she was a servant of the goddess." His voice shook, whispering. "Our goddess… _Valehora_."

"I've never heard of such a goddess." The red haired man said, scratching his jaw thoughtfully.

"No, you would not. My people took great pains to make sure no one knew the name."

"Why do you tell it to me freely then?"

"Because, young man, no one _believes_ anymore. There is no more faith in this age. No one cares of the tales of old or the great legends of past." Garvene frowned, eyes sad. "No one cares…"

"Do you?"

"Of course!" Garvene said passionately.

"I see."

"We did not tell the name of our goddess because during the time when the priestess came to us, religious wars waged upon the planet. The Ryjki remained elusive to us humans. The Ryjki worshiped Tsusha the Great Mother while the common folk worshiped no one except for themselves and the Tskukuko Clan worshiped Valehora. Of course there were other people who worshiped different gods but that didn't matter to us. My people believed that Valehora created Tsusha the Great Mother, and therefore – in turn – was the original source of how all things came to be. If Valehora created Tsusha the Great Mother and Tsusha the Great Mother created the Ryjki and eventually humans then…should it not be Valehora that was worshiped?"

The young man's eyes widened in shock. "What did you say?"

Garvene's aged eyes bore into his. "Yes. It is as I have just said. My people believe that Valehora created this world. That she was a _creator_ of worlds."

"How would your people even begin to know how that came to be?"

Garvene shrugged. "I would not know the answer to that, young man. As we all know, time affects history in a strange way…"

"The message," the red haired man said slowly. "Where would I find it?"

"I know not where you would find her holy message now. My ancestor, Merrick, was the keeper of her words and even he never let it be known to his descendants."

The young man stood up and began pacing by the fire, red armor glinting in the light. He slipped out of Tsukukan and began muttering in the common tongue with a Midgardian accent. "Why would she go against her beliefs, _a_ _priestess_?"

"Our people never knew what the message contained," he heard Garvene whisper from behind him. "We were not familiar with the language of the Ryjki. The ones you call _Ancients_." The last word was said in the common tongue the young man spoke, devoid of any accent and clear as day.

"And your people accepted the priestess through blind faith," the red haired man said. "I commend you, old man, and your people for taking on such a task that has lasted two thousand years."

He stood up, his sword heavy on his back. He stared at the wrinkled old man, gnarled hands still warming by the fire.

"Now that our bargain is complete, I will grant you the favor you asked."

Garvene shut his eyes. "Thank you."

The young man did no hesitate as he reached for his broad sword, unsheathing it.

" _Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess_ ," Genesis Rhapsodos recited, a prayer on his lips. The tip of his sword nearly kissed the back of the old man's neck. " _We seek it thus and take to the sky_."

Garvene opened his eyes a blissful smile on his lips.

"May Valehora bless you."

Outside, the wind blew, the trees swayed and a dead man's whisper carried up in the breeze.


	16. Prelude IV

**Prelude IV**

* * *

It has been twenty-five days since she fell from the sky.

She stood staring out at the lake. A breeze blew strands of brilliant silver hair.

And I still did not know her name.

I clasped my hands behind my back, looking at the lake with her in comfortable silence. I was getting used her quiet demeanor. She did not talk much. When she did utter words, it was in a tongue I did not understand. The words were lilting, almost musical. Beautiful.

Like nothing I had ever heard of in this world.

* * *

Fifteen days later she spoke.

" _Fanera lusheen miira thouy?_ "

I almost dropped the basket in my hands, shocked - thrilled at the sound of her amazing voice.

She looked so regal standing in front of me. I could only shake my head. I did not understand her. She looked away then, frustration etched across her perfect face and walked away.

Hours passed.

Somewhere a bird was chirping, singing merrily on a branch. I resisted the temptation to hum along with it.

The sky suddenly darkened, clouds turning grey and parting to make for strong winds and a sudden onslaught of rain.

"What in Gaia…?" I looked around, confused at the weather change.

It poured down hard and I shivered, wet and cold and looked out across the field. She stood against the elements, the rain making her silver armor shine against the bolts of lightning. She looked as if she was glowing. I rubbed my wet eyes, squinting.

It rained the entire week.

* * *

I was in trouble.

"I have been told, _mec puay_ , that you have been disappearing from the White Hall," my father, Kertuth, High Elder of the Gu'erian Thor, said to me. He was a tall man with bronze colored hair and brown eyes. His jaw was square and his nose noble. I did not look much like him. I have been told I bore my mother's appearance.

The White Hall was a most-holy place where priestesses communed with Gaia.

However, I knew well enough that whenever I was called _mec puay_ I was expected to be especially attentive, for those words meant 'my daughter' in our tongue.

"Father, you know it is the Floralun Season and that I must gather the new blooms for the Ceremony of Celebration."

He appeared to be considering my words. The Floralun Season was an important part of our culture, honoring the changing of seasons.

"You are the daughter of the High Elder," his brows narrowed. "And you are a priestess now. You have been honored with that holy position when you came of age. Therefore I shall tell you this only once when you are summoned for Communion in the White Hall you _will_ attend without fail. Do not disobey me, _mec puay_."

I nodded once.

"Now, tell me where you have been going."

My reply was an automatic one.

"I have been going to the North Wood to gather new blooms."

Brown eyes scanned my face.

"So be it."

He turned around in a whirl of thick white robes and left.

* * *

Twelve days had passed since she last spoke and still it was storming. My people believed Gaia was angry and made many sacrifices to her, hoping to appease this anger.

But I had not joined in on the sacrificial ceremonies.

It was beginning to become more difficult finding my mysterious friend. I wandered further and further into the North Wood, hoping I would not eventually wander off to the Borderlands. I knew if she wanted to remain hidden, she would remain so and I would probably never see her again. I went to look for her anyway.

She was my friend even if she didn't know it.

The rain was coming down hard now. Lightning clapped above me and thunder broiled. I was soaked to the bone, my robes sticking indecently, heavy around my legs.

My foot collided with a rock and I tripped.

I braced myself for the wet, muddy ground but…nothing.

I blinked, breathing hard, and looked up.

" _Nune thris kowre lo_ ," I knew the voice instantly and caught my breath. She held me up, towering over me. _  
_

"I was looking for you." I gathered my balance. Her grip on my arms hurt and I winced.

Her violet eyes narrowed and she let me go. " _Nune lija rewa habade, reth nwane losoth_."

The rain fell around us. I blinked the wetness that stung my eyes. Lightning struck behind her, casting bright shadows around us. Damp silver hair clung to her pale forehead.

And then she lifted her face to the onslaught of the storm and shut her eyes.

The rain, the wind, the thunder and lighting they all stopped at once!

In its place was the sun, blaring with its heat, drying the land.

"How…?" I stuttered, and backed away from her. She truly was…something different!

 _Power._

I felt it rumble beneath our feet, around us, and the source of it…came from her.

I asked her then, "What...are you?"

A terrifying smile twisted her lips.

I was losing myself to her dark eyes, the emotions burning within them, the unfathomable meaning behind them.

And then, in a blink of an eye, great silver wings rose from her back.

I backed away, heart racing at the sight of her magnificence.

" _Who are you?_ " The question tumbled, stuttered, from my mouth.

She leaned down, took me by the arms and set me steady on my feet. Her face was close to mine. Her powerful eyes enthralled me. Bending to my ear, her magnificent voice was barely a whisper.

" _Lorra kana Zarsheth."  
_

I was half her size, staring up at her majestic features.

" _ _Zarsheth_._ "


	17. Author's Note: Wattpadd Announcement

I've started posting chapters of my original novel on Wattpadd for free - temporarily _._

Since I can't post any links through THIS site, if you go to Wattpadd, you can search for user "ava_magick" and find my novel "Harbinger" (yes, same title - but totally different story).

Happy Reading,

sorceress alexandria aka ava_magick


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